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WILSON— THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 




♦Diners ($li(l(l©p, 

New York. 



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MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 



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Ejtmrkd according to Act of Congress in the year 1869, by 

W. A. TOWNSEND t CO., 

la the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for tfca S«ttKr« 
District of New York. 



CONTENTS. 



Pagel 
Stephenson, The Railway Pioneer, t 

The Beginning of the Rothschilds, 48 

The rise of the Peel Family, 53 

Wilson, the Ornithologist, 80 

West, the Artist, 100 

Astor, the Millionaire, Ill 

Hutton, the Bookseller, 121 

Franklin, the Navigator, 145 

Oberlin, the Pastor, 168 

Burritt, the Linguist, 121 

Wilhelm, the Knife-grinder, 206 

ne Story of Hugh Miller's Early Days, 225 

jinnseus, the Naturalist, 2*7*7 

Smeaton, the Engineer, 285 

Rittenhouse, the Mathematician, 299 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGK 

Wilson, the Ornithologist. (Frontispiece.) 
Yignette Title. 

Greorge Stephenson , 21 

The Rothschilds 48 

The Spinning-Jenny TO 

Hutton's Escape 125 

Oberlin, the Pastor 178 

Hugh Miller and Companion in the Cave c £4fi 



MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 



"Whoe'er, amidst the sons • 
Of reason, valor, liberty and virtue, 
Displays distinguished merit, is a noble 
Of Nature's own creating." 



STEPHENSON, THE KAILWAY 
PIONEER 

Within the last thirty years a revolution has been 
effected in onr social relations, and the surface 
of the country has undergone a change wondrous 
as the transformations of a geologic era. The 
greatest works of antiquity cannot stand compari- 
son with our railways, when we take into consider- 
ation their magnitude and utility — the engineer- 
ing skill and amount of capital involved in their 
construction. It is estimated by the biographer 
of George Stephenson that in Great Britain and 
Ireland alone, iron rails have been laid more than 
sufficient to girdle the globe; tunnels and viaducts, 
upwards of one hundred miles in extent, have 
pierced hard rock-mountains, and spanned deep 



8 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

valleys ; and earthworks have been constructed 
capable, according to calculation, of forming a 
mountain half-a-mile in diameter at its base, and 
towering upwards one mile and a-half in height. 
It seems almost incredible that works of such mag 
nitude, requiring for their construction an unpre- 
cedented amount of ca]3ital, labor and skill, should 
have been completed in little more than a quarter 
of a century. The great value, the absolute neces- 
sity, of railway communication, in these days oi 
flourishing trade and extending commerce, is made 
abundantly manifest by tne rapidity with which 
the country has been incased in a network of iron. 
George Stephenson came when a new system of 
internal intercourse was demanded by the wants 
of the age, and his invention of the Locomotive 
Engine gave an impulse to science and art, to 
commerce and civilization, greater than we can 
fully estimate. The life of the man who inaugur- 
ated the modern system of Railways, and who, 
by patient plodding perseverance and invincible 
determination, rendered possible a declared im- 
possibility, possesses the deepest interest, and en- 
forces the most valuable lessons. The biography 
of the most eminent of English engineers cannot 
fail to prove attractive in no ordinary degree, un- 
folding as it does the career of one who rose from 
obscurity to well-earned fame and affluence, and 
who must be pronounced a model-worker — the re- 
presentative practical man of the nineteenth cen- 
tury. Availing ourselves of the information col- 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 9 

lected by Mr. Samuel Smiles in his bulky biogra- 
phy, we give the following epitome of the life of 
this true Raihvay King : 

George Stephenson was born at Wylani — a 
colliery village about eight miles west of New- 
castle-on-Tyne — on the 9th of June, 1781. His 
parents inhabited a laborer's cottage of the hum- 
blest class, with unplastered walls, clay floor, and 
exposed rafters. " Old Bob," as his father was 
familiarly called, fired the old pumping-engine at 
the Wylam Colliery — a careful, hard-working man ; 
and Mabel Stephenson, his mother, though troub- 
led occasionally with the " vapors," was held in 
the highest esteem by her neighbors. They were 
an honest, decent, respectable couple, such -as we 
may find in colliery cottages and elsewhere. " Old 
Bob " was a genuine character, a self-taught roman- 
cist, and natural naturalist; and it is pleasant to 
think of him on the winter evenings gathering the 
children of the village around his engine-fire, and 
telling, in strong Northumbrian speech, the stories 
of "Sinbad" and Robinson Crusoe," or wandering 
about during the summer months in search of 
birds' nests, when the day's "darg" was done. 
George was the second of a family of six children 
—four sons and two daughters. None of them 
were ever sent to school. The weekly wages of a 
fireman were barely sufficient, even with rigid 
economy, to afford the family a sufficient supply of 
food and clothing. 

The first duties of the future eminent engineer 



10 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

consisted in carrying his father's dinner to him while 
at work, in nursing the younger children, and see- 
ing that they were kept out of the way of the chal- 
dron wagons, which were dragged by horses along 
a wooden tramroad immediately in front of the 
cottage-door. He next herded the cows of a widow 
at Dewley Burn, whither the family removed from 
Wylam, when the coal was worked out, and the 
old engine pulled down. Besides herding the 
widow's cows, he was appointed, at the wage of 
twopence a-day (four cents), to bar the gates at 
night after all the coal-wagons had passed. The 
herd-boy spent his spare time in making whistles 
and little mills, and erecting clay engines. The child 
is father of the man. Wilkie drawing pencil-heads 
on his slate for pins, and Stephenson modeling 
clay engines . for amusement, had already begun 
the labor of their lives. From that humble origin, 
from the rude attempts of a herd-boy sitting by 
the side of the Dewley Burn, sprung the great 
system of British Railways. Feeding cows, lead- 
ing horses at the plow, and hoeing turnips, did 
not, however, suit the taste of the embryo en- 
gineer, and he was much elated when advanced to 
the position of "picker" at the colliery, where he 
was employed, along with his elder brother, in 
clearing the coal of stones and dross. His wages 
were now sixpence a-day, and rose to eightpence 
(sixteen cents) when he drove the gin-horse. 
Shortly after he was sent to Black Callerton Col- 
iWy, about two miles from Dewley Burn, to drive 



THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 11 

the gin there ; and he is described by the old peo- 
ple of that place as a "grit barelegged laddie, very 
quick-witted, and full of fun and tricks." There 
was genuine mettle and promise in the boy so 
characterized. We can picture him there, the 
rough, unkempt, barelegged collier "laddie," driv- 
ing his gin-horse, whistling on his own whistles 
cracking a whip of his own manufacture, and in- 
dulging in practical jokes at the expense of grim 
pitmen. When off duty, he went bird-nesting, 
having inherited from "Old Bob" a strong attach- 
ment to birds and animals. He tamed young 
blackbirds, taught them to fly about the cottage 
anconfined by cages, and prided himself upon the 
superiority of his breed of rabbits. 

At the age of fourteen, the "grit barelegged 
laddie " became assistant fireman to his father at 
Dewley. His ambition was to be an engineman, 
and his exultation was unbounded when he at- 
tained the long-desired promotion. He had now 
got upon the right track, and his career of pro- 
gress began with his appointment as assistant fire- 
man. From Dewley, the family removed south- 
wards to Jolly's Close, where a new coal-mine had 
recently been opened. They lived in a poor cot- 
tage of one apartment, where father, mother, sons, 
nd daughters, ate their humble meals, and slept 
heir hurried sleep. At Jolly's Close, George was 
removed to one of the workings on his own ac- 
count. He was now fifteen years old ; a steady, 
sober, hard-working young man. He was fond of 



12 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

trying feats of strength with his companions. At 
throwing the hammer he had no compeer, and 
seems to have been equally successful in lifting 
heavy weights. 

At the age of seventeen George had got ahead 
of his father in his station as a workman. He was 
appointed plugman of a pumping-engine, while his 
father worked it as fireman. No sooner did he 
occupy this responsible post, than he devoted him- 
self assiduously to the study of the engine, taking 
it frequently to pieces in his leisure hours, for the 
purpose of cleaning and mastering its parts, and 
thus he early acquired a thorough practical know- 
ledge of its construction, and disciplined his inven- 
tive faculty. An engine seemed to attract him by 
some mysterious fascination ; it Avas no dull, groan- 
ing machine in his estimation, but a thing instinct 
with wondrous life. Its complicated mechanism 
absorbed his interest, and excited his admiration * 
and the minute study of its details, while quicken- 
ing his powers of observation, made him an accom- 
plished workman, and gained for him the increased 
confidence of his employers. At this period he 
worked twelve hours every day, and earned tw r elve 
shillings (about three dollars) a-w r eek. The "grit 
barelegged laddie" has now taken a considerable 
stride in advance. 

George Stephenson was eighteen years of age 
before he knew r his letters, and he does not appear 
to have felt the want until he was told that all the 
engines of Watt and Bolton, about which he was 



THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 13 

so anxious to know, were to be found described in 
books — and the alphabet was yet to him a hidden 
mystery ! It affords a striking illustration of the 
persevering, searching, indomitable spirit of the 
young man, that no sooner did he feel his want — 
"yto sooner was the conviction forced upon him that 
he must learn to read before further progress was 
possible, than immediately he went to school, big 
as he was, and commenced in earnest the work of 
self culture. He was not ashamed to confess his 
ignorance ; he was proud that he possessed the ca- 
pability of learning. A poor teacher in the village 
of Walbottle kept a night-school, and there George 
Stephenson took his first lessons in spelling and 
reading, and practiced "pot-hooks." One can 
imagine the big bony engineman bending over his 
desk, and laboring sore at the unwonted task. 
Andrew Robertson, a Scotch dominie, who enjoy- 
ed the reputation of being a skilled arithmetician, 
was the next teacher from whom George took 
lessons. He made rapid progress, and at the end 
of the Winter had mastered "reduction," while 
the junior fireman was heating his brains over sim- 
ple division. He improved every spare minute by 
the engine-fire in working out the sums set for him 
by the learned dominie of Newburn, and the pa- 
tient pupil was not long in outstripping his teacher 
To perseverance all things are possible, and where 
the desire to learn was so strong, rapid attainment 
was certain. In this, as in other respects, Stephen- 
son may be held up as a memorable model to young 



14 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

men. Against every disadvantage of circumstance 
and fortune, he struggled onwards, by sheer force 
of will, and the determination to succeed. Many 
men, unschooled like him in boyhood, and of equal 
natural ability, ashamed to confess their ignorance, 
would have remained without instruction, and thus 
neglected the means and the opportunity of better- 
ing their condition, and of rising from obscurity to 
eminence. 

Stephenson — ever rising steadily step by step — 
became brakesman at Black Callerton when he had 
attained his twentieth year, and his wages amount- 
ed to from five to ten dollars in the fortnight. By 
extra work during leisure hours, he increased his 
earnings, and he had the happy facility, peculiar to 
some men gifted with mechanical genius, of being 
able to turn his hand to any and everything. He 
grew expert in making and mending the shoes of 
his fellow-workmen. His chef d^ceuvre in the cob- 
bling department was soleing the shoes of hia 
sweetheart, Fanny Henderson, a servant in a neigh- 
boring farm-house. So delighted was the amateur 
shoemaker with his performance, that he carried 
the shoes about with him in his pocket on the Sun- 
day afternoon, and exhibiting them to a friend, ex- 
claimed, "What a capital job he had made of 
them ! " From shoemending he contrived to save 
his first guinea, and considered himself to be a rich 
man. He did not, like many of the other work- 
men, spend his earnings in the public-house; he 
was habitually steady, and applied his spare time 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 15 

to master the powers and mechanisms of the engine. 
He had a definite purpose in view when he saved 
his first guinea. It gradually attracted a few 
more, and the industrious brakesman soon managed 
to save as much money as enabled him, pn leaving 
Black Callerton for Willington Quay, to furnish a 
humble house, and marry Fanny Henderson. After 
the marriage ceremony, George rode over to Wil- 
lington on a borrowed horse, with his newly-wed- 
ded wife sitting on the pillion behind him, and 
holding on by her arms around his waist. He con- 
tinued the same regular course of life, working 
hard during the day, and studying the principles of 
mechanics in the evenings by the side of his young 
wife. He also modeled experimental engines, and 
occupied himself much in endeavoring to discover 
Perpetual Motion. He allowed few moments to 
pass unimproved ; his eye was ever observant, and 
his mind ever active. He could make and mend 
shoes, cut out shoe-lasts, clean clocks, and model 
complicated machines ; and whatever he did was 
creditable alike to his ingenuity and his skill. 
While residing at Willington, his only son Robert 
was born — that son who has contributed so much 
to heighten the distinction of the Stephenson name. 
The child was from the first a great favorite with 
his father, and added a fresh charm to the domes 
tic hearth. 

George Stephenson worked for about three 
years as a brakesman at the Willington machine, 
and then removed to a similar situation at Killing- 



16 MEK WHO HATE KISEN. 

worth, a village lying about seven miles north of 
Newcastle, where the coal-workings are of great 
extent, and a large number of people are employed. 
Much interest attaches to his settlement in this 
place, as it was here that his practical qualities as 
an engineer were fully developed, and that he ac- 
quired the reputation of an inventor. He came to 
Killingworth in 1804, and he had scarcely settled 
down ere he sustained a severe loss in the death of 
his much-loved Fanny. A man of strong affections, 
he felt the bereavement bitterly. He bowed his 
head in sorrow, and ever fondly cherished the 
memory of his young wife. While mourning her 
loss, he was invited to superintend the working of 
one of Bolton and Watt's engines, near Montrose. 
He accepted the invitation, and, leaving his boy in 
charge of a neighbor, set out upon his long jour- 
ney on foot, with his kit upon his back. He re- 
turned to Killingworth, after a year's absence, 
with £28 ($1G0) of saved money in his pocket. 
During his stay in Scotland, old Robert Stephen- 
son, his father, had been severely scorched, and his 
eye-sight destroyed, while making some repairs in 
the inside of an engine. George's first step was to 
pay off his father's debts ; and soon afterwards he 
removed his aged parents to a comfortable cottage 
at Killingworth, where they lived, supported en 
tirely by their dutiful son. 

About the years 1807-8, Stephenson contem- 
plated the idea of emigrating to the United States. 
Owing to the great war in which England was 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 17 



' * 



then engaged, taxes pressed heavily upon the 
laboring class; food was scarce and dear, and 
wages were low ; and the workman saw little pros- 
pect of any improvement in his condition. The 
hardwon earnings of George Stephenson were paid 
to a militiaman to serve in his stead ; and need we 
wonder if he should almost have despaired of ever 
being able to succeed in England ? He could not, 
however, raise the requisite money to emigrate, 
and thus his poverty was ultimately his own and 
his country's gain. He worked on steadily as a 
brakesman. Stinted as he was for means at the 
time, he resolved to send his son Robert to school. 
<c In the earlier period of my career," said he, long 
afterwards, in a speech at Newcastle, "when 
Robert was a little boy, I saw how deficient I was 
in education; and I made up my mind that he 
should not labor under the same defect, but that I 
would put him to school, and give him a liberal 
training. I was, however, a poor man ; and how 
do you think I managed? I betook myself to 
mending my neighbors' clocks and watches at 
night, after my daily labor was done ; and thus I 
procured the means of educating my son." 

An achievement which George performed at this 
time caused his name to be noised abroad as an en- 
gine-doctor. At the Killingworth High Pit, an at- 
mospheric engine was fixed, for the purpose oi 
pumping out the water from the shaft ; but, the 
workmen continued to be " drowned out," pump 
as the engine might. Under the direction of Ste- 
2 

r 



18 MEN WHO HATE KISEN. 

phenson, the engine was taken to pieces, and so 
repaired that the pumping apparatus proved com- 
pletely successful. He received a present of £10, 
as a recognition of his skill as a workman. After 
hard struggling, the genius of the man now began 
to be felt and acknowledged. He devoted himself 
in the evenings, with renewed energy, to self-im- 
provement, modeling steam and pumping engines, 
and striving to embody the mechanical inventions 
described in odd volumes on mechanics. From 
John Wigham, a farmer's son, he derived consider- 
able assistance in his studies. This young man 
taught him to draw plans and sections. They 
carefully pondered together Ferguson's " Lectures 
on Mechanics," and invented many mechanical 
contrivances to aid them in their experiments. 
Wigham expounded principles, and Stephenson re- 
duced them to practice. 

The resolution which George had formed to give 
his son a good education, he was able to carry into 
effect, by managing to save a sum of £100. This 
amount he accumulated in guineas, and sold them 
to Jews at twenty-six shillings a-piece. A shrewd, 
industrious man was George Stephenson, and one 
destined to rise in the world. He sent his son to 
an academy at Newcastle, where he commenced a 
course of sound instruction. At Kiliingworth, 
Stephenson continued to astonish the neighborhood 
by his ingenious mechanical contrivances. He in- 
vented a strange " fley craw " to protect his gar- 
den-crops from the ravages of birds j he won the 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 19 

admiration of the women, by connecting their 
cradles with the smoke-jack, and making them 
self-acting; and excited much wonder in the pit- 
men, by attaching an alarm to the clock of the 
watchman, whose duty it was to call them up in 
the morning. He also contrived a mysterious 
lamp, which burned under water, and attracted 
the fish. His cottage was full of models, engines, 
and perpetual-motion machines. 

In 1812 he was appointed engine- wright of the 
Killingworth Colliery, at the salary of £100 a-year. 
He is ever steadily rising, winning more and more 
the respect of his employers, and gaining for him- 
self, by manful effort, a better position in the world. 
He had now advanced to the grade of a higher- 
class workman. He erected a winding and a 
pumping engine, and laid down a self-acting in- 
cline at Willington. The practical study which he 
had given to the steam engine, and his intimate 
acquaintance with its powers, were of immense ad- 
vantage to him in his endeavors after improvement. 
The locomotive already occupied his attention ; he 
knew its value and its capabilities ; and he soon 
bent the whole force of his mind to develop its 
might. A more economical method of working 
the coal trains, instead of by means of horses, was 
a great desideratum at the collieries. Stephenson 
immediately began in earnest to attempt the solu- 
tion of the problem. He first made himself 
thoroughly acquainted with what had already been 
done. He went to inspect the engines which w^ro 



20 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

working daily at Wylam — slow, cumbrous, un- 
steady machines, more expensive than horses, and 
certainly much slower in their movements. He 
declared on the spot that he could make a much 
better engine than Trevethick's. One of Blenkin- 
sop's Leeds engines he saw placed on the tramway 
leading from the collieries of Kenton and Coxlodge ; 
and here again, after examining the machine, and ob- 
serving its performances, he asserted that "he could 
make a better engine than that to go upon legs." 
All the engines constructed up to this time were, 
in his estimation, practical failures, unsteady in 
their movement, and far from economical in their 
working. Much ingenuity had already been shown, 
and some little success had been attained ; but a 
man of keen practical insight and great persever- 
ance was required to promote the efficiency of 
every part, and to produce a good working ma- 
chine. Lord Ravensworth, one of the lessees of 
the Killingworth Colliery, after hearing Stephen- 
son's statements, authorized him to proceed with 
the construction of a locomotive. With such 
mechanics and tools as he could find (and both 
were somewhat clumsy), he set to work, following 
in part the plan of Blenkinsop's engine. The lo- 
comotive was completed in about ten months. Its 
powers were tried on the Killingworth Railway on 
the 25th of July, 1814, and it succeeded in draw- 
ing after it, on an ascending gradient of 1 in 450, 
eight loaded carriages, of thirty tons' weight, at 
about four miles an hour. " Blucher " was a great 




G EOEGE STEP! I EK SON . 
" There was danger, it might be death, before him, but he must go." — Page 21. 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 21 

advance upon all previous locomotives ; but it was 
nevertheless a cumbrous machine, and jolted, 
jerked, and rattled like the gigantic skeleton of a 
mammoth. At the end of the year, the steam- 
power and horse-power were found to be nearly 
upon a par in point of cost. The locomotive might 
have been condemned as useless, had not Stephen- 
son at this juncture fortunately invented and ap- 
plied the steam-blast, which stimulated combus- 
tion, increased the capability of the boiler to gen- 
erate steam, and more than doubled the power of 
the engine. The success of the steam-blast was 
complete ; and Stephenson determined to construct 
a second engine, embodying all the improvements 
that his experience suggested. It was finished in 
the year 1815, and may be regarded as the type of 
the present locomotive engine. 

At this period, explosions of fire-damp were fre- 
quent in the Northumberland and Durham coal- 
mines, attended sometimes by fearful loss of life. 
" One day, in the year 1814, a workman hurried in 
to Mr. Stephenson's cottage, with the startling in- 
formation that the deepest main of the colliery was 
on fire ! He immediately hastened to the pit- 
mouth, about a hundred yards off, whither the 
women and children of the colliery were fast run- 
ning, with wildness and terror depicted in every 
face. In an energetic voice Stephenson ordered 
the engine-man to lower him down the shaft in the 
corve. There was danger, it might be death, be- 
fore him — but he must go. As those about the 



22 MEN WHO HAYE RISE]?. 

pit-mouth saw him descend rapidly out of sight, 
and heard from the gloomy depths of the shaft the 
mingled cries of despair and agony rising from the 
workpeople below, they gazed on the heroic man 
with breathless amazement. He was soon at the 
bottom, and in the midst of his workmen, who 
were paralyzed at the danger which threatened the 
lives of all in the pit. Leaping from the corve on 
its touching the ground, he called out, 'Stand 
back ! Are there six men among you who have 
courage enough to follow me ? If so, come, and 
we will put the fire out.' The Killingworth men 
had always the most perfect confidence in George 
Stephenson, and instantly they volunteered to fol- 
low him. Silence succeeded to the frantic tumult 
of the previous minute, and the men set to work. 
In every mine, bricks, mortar, and tools enough 
are at hand, and by Stephenson's direction mate- 
rials were forthwith carried to the required spot, 
where, in a very short time, a wall was raised at 
the entrance to the main, he himself taking the 
most active part in the work. Thus the atmos- 
pheric air was excluded, the fire was extinguished, 
and the people were saved from death, and the 
mine was preserved." 

After this accident, Stephenson set about devis- 
ing a lamp which would afford sufficient light to 
the miners, without communicating flame to the 
inflammable gas in the pit. His experiments re- 
sulted in the invention of the Geordy Safety 
Lamp. The name of Sir Humphrey Davy has 



THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 23 

been generally identified with the invention : but 
it now seems that Stephenson had made a success- 
ful trial of his lamp before Davy's invention was 
made public. 

While people were predicting a terrible blow- 
up some day for George's locomotive at Killing- 
worth, it continued to perform its appointed work. 
The engine was indeed subject to jolts and shocks, 
and occasionally it was thrown off the road, owing 
to the inequality of the rails, and the imperfection 
of the chairs or cast-iron pedestals into which the 
rails were inserted. These defects did not long re- 
main unnoticed and unamended. In September, 
1816, an improved form of the rail and chair was 
embodied in a patent taken out in the joint names 
of Mr. Losh of Newcastle, ironfounder, and of Mr. 
Stephenson. Important improvements on loco- 
motives previously constructed were also described 
in the specification of the same patent. Mr. Ste- 
phenson had devised an ingenious contrivance, by 
which the steam generated in the boiler was made 
to supply the place of springs ! The working of 
the new locomotive and improved road was highly 
satisfactory, and the superiority of the locomotive 
to horse traction, both as regards regularity and 
economy, was now completely established. The 
identical engines constructed by Mr. Stephenson 
are still at work on the Killingworth Railway. 
He investigated the resistances to which carria- 
ges are exposed, and ascertained by experiment 
the now well-known^ but then much-contested 



24 MEJST WHO HAVE RISEN. 

fact, that friction was uniform at all veloci- 
ties. 

In 1820 Mr. Stephenson resolved to send his son 
Robert — who, since leaving school at Newcastle, 
had acted as under-viewer in the West Moor Pit 
— to the University of Edinburgh. He was fur- 
nished with introductions to men of science in the 
Scottish metropolis, and attended the lectures of 
Dr. Hope, Sir John Leslie, and the mathematical 
classes of Jamieson. He studied at Edinburgh for 
only one session of six months, but, possessing 
much of his father's zeal, industry, and persever- 
ance, he made great progress, and stored his mind 
with scientific knowledge. He subsequently ren- 
dered his father the most valuable assistance in de- 
veloping the power of the steam-engine, and in the 
construction of railways. 

While such men as William James, Edward 
Pease, and Thomas Gray, were agitating the gen- 
eral adoption of railways, Stephenson was busy 
making railways, and building efficient locomo- 
tives. A very large capital was required to lay 
down rails and furnish engines, and this accounts 
in part for the slow growth at first of the railway 
system. The Hetton Coal Company, possessing 
adequate means, and observing the working of the 
Killingworth line, resolved to construct a railway 
about eight miles in length, and George Stephen- 
son was requested to superintend their works. 
This was the first decisive public recognition of 
his engineering skill. The line was opened in No- 



STEPHESTSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 25 

vember, 1822, in the presence of a crowd of spec- 
tators. Five of Stephenson's locomotives were at 
work on that day, traveling about four miles an 
hour, and each engine dragging after it a train 01 
seventeen wagons, weighing about sixty-four tons. 
In 1823 the second Stockton and Darlington 
Railway Act was obtained. Mr. Stephenson was 
appointed the company's engineer, at a salary of 
£300 (nearly $1500) per annum. He laid out 
every foot of the ground himself, accompanied by 
his assistants. He surveyed indefatigably from 
daylight to dusk, dressed in top-boots and breech- 
es ; and took his chance of bread and milk, or a 
homely dinner at some neighboring farmhouse. 
The country people were fond of his cheerful talk, 
and he was always a great favorite with the chil- 
dren. One day, when the works were approaching 
completion, he dined with his son, and John Dixon, 
his assistant, at Stockton. After dinner, Mr. Ste- 
phenson ordered in a bottle of wine, to drink suc- 
cess to the railway, and said to the young men, 
" Now, lads, I will tell you that I think you will 
live to see the day, though I may not live so long, 
when railways will come to supersede almost all 
other methods of conveyance in this country ; when 
mail-coaches will go by railway, and railroads will 
become the great highway for the King and all his 
subjects. The time is coming when it will be 
cheaper for a working man to travel on a railway 
than to walk on foot, I know there are great and 
almost insurmountable obstacles that will have to 
2 



26 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN". 

be encountered. But what I have said will come 
to pass, as sure as I live. I only wish I may live 
to see the day, though that I can scarcely hope 
for, as I know how slow all human progress is, and 
with what difficulty I have been able to get tho 
locomotive adopted, notwithstanding my more 
than ten years' successful experiment at Killing- 
worth." The anticipations of the great engineer 
were more than realized. 

The Stockton and Darlington line was opened 
for traffic in September, 1825. As this was the 
first public railway, a great crowd of people as- 
sembled to witness the ceremony of opening. Mr. 
Stephenson himself drove the engine. The train 
consisted of thirty-eight vehicles, among which 
were twenty-one wagons fitted up with temporary 
seats for passengers, and a carriage filled with the 
directors and their friends. The speed attained in 
some parts was twelve miles an hour; and the arrival 
at Stockton excited deep interest and admiration. 
The line was found to work excellently, and the 
goods and passenger traffic soon exceeded the ex- 
pectations of the directors. 

An important step in the progress of the rail- 
way system was the establishment by Mr. Stephen- 
son of a locomotive manufactory at Newcastle. 
The building, small at first, subsequently assumed 
gigantic dimensions. Skilled workmen were en- 
gaged, under whose direction others were disci- 
plined. The most celebrated engineers of Europe, 
America and India, acquired their best practical 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 27 

knowledge in the Newcastle factory. It continued 
to be the only establishment of the kind, until 
after the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester 
line in 1830. 

The survey of this railway was the next import- 
ant public work which Mr. Stephenson was re- 
quested to undertake. Great was the opposition 
on the part of the proprietors of the lands through 
which the line was intended to pass. Lord 
Derby's farmers and servants, and Lord Sefton's 
keepers, turned out in full force to resist the ag- 
gressions of the surveying party. The Duke of 
Bridgewater's property-guard threatened to duck 
Mr. Stephenson in a pond if he proceeded ; and 
he had to take the survey by stealth, when the 
people were at dinner. The opposition of landed 
proprietors and canal companies to tb<3 projected 
railway grew in intensity, when the survey, im- 
perfect as it could not fail to bj, was completed, 
and arrangements were made fo± introducing the 
bill into Parliament. The Livexpool and Man- 
chester Bill went into committee of the House of 
Commons on the 21st of March, 1825. The array 
of legal talent, on the opposition side especially, 
was something extraordinary. Mr. George Ste- 
phenson was called to the witness-box, and sub- 
jected to a rigorous examination. " I had to place 
myself in that most unpleasant of all positions — 
the witness-box of a parliamentary committee. I 
was not long in it before I began to wish for a 
hole to creep out at. I could not find words to 



28 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

satisfy either the committee or myself. I was 
subjected to the cross-examination of eight or ten 
barristers, purposely, as far as possible, to bewilder 
me. One member of the committee asked if I 
was a foreigner ; and another hinted that I was 
mad. But I put up with every rebuff, and went 
on with my plans, determined not to be put down." 
The idea of a train going at the rate of twelve 
miles an hour was considered the height of ab- 
surdity. A good story is told of Stephenson dur- 
ing his examination. A member of committee 
put the following case : — " Suppose, now, one of 
these engines to be going along a railroad at the 
rate of nine or ten miles an hour, and that a cow 
were to stray upon the line, and get in the way of 
the engine, would not that, think you, be a very awk- 
ward circumstance ? " — " Yes," replied the witness, 
in his Northumbrian speech ; " very awkward in- 
deed — -for the cooP The examination of Mr. 
Stephenson lasted three days ; and the result of 
the contest was the temporary withdrawal of the 
bill. This was sufficiently discouraging, and the 
railway system seemed about to be crushed at the 
outset. The directors, however, nothing daunted, 
were determined to press on with their project. 
A new survey was made, the plans were deposited, 
and the bill went into committee. It passed the 
third reading in the House of Commons, by a 
majority of eighty-eight to forty-one; and its only 
opponents in the House of Lords were the Earl of 
Derby and the Earl of Wilton. 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 29 

The directors appointed Mr. George Stephen- 
son their principal engineer, at a salary of £1,000 
per annum — a mighty advance from the herd-boy 
with his twopence per diem. The Liverpool and 
Manchester directors had put the right man in 
the right place, as they subsequently found. He 
immediately began to make the road over Chat 
Moss — a work which the distinguished engineers 
of the day had declared that " no man in his 
senses would undertake to do." But George Ste- 
phenson did not know the meaning of the word 
" impossible." For weeks, truck-load after truck- 
load of material was poured in, without any sen- 
sible effect. The bog, it w r as feared, had some 
connection with the bottomless pit. The directors 
became alarmed, and Mr. Stephenson answered, 
" We must persevere." Other weeks passed ; the 
insatiable bog swallowed all; the solid embank- 
ment made no sign. A special meeting of the 
board was forthwith held on the spot, to consult 
whether the work should be proceeded with or 
abandoned. "An immense outlay had been in- 
curred," said Mr. Stephenson afterwards, " and 
great loss w^ould have been occasioned had the 
scheme been then abandoned, and the line taken 
by another route. So the directors were compelled 
to allow me to go on with my plan, of the ultimate 
success of which I myself never for one moment 
doubted. Determined, therefore, to persevere as 
before, I ordered the works to be carried on 
vigorously ; and, to the surprise of every one con 



30 HEN WHO HATE RISEN 

nected with the undertaking, in six months from 
the day on which the board had held its special 
meeting on the moss, a locomotive engine and 
carriage passed over the very spot, with a party 
of the directors' friends, on their way to dine at 
Manchester." The embankments, the bridges, 
the Sankey viaduct, the Rainhill Skew bridge, 
and the Olive Mount excavation, were regarded 
as wondrous works, and filled even " distinguished 
engineers " with admiration. In the organization 
and direction of na\ vies, and in training them for 
their special work, Mr. Stephenson also manifested 
the most eminent skill and ability. He was a 
Napoleon in his profession, never failing in his re- 
sources or his undertakings; a man of infinite 
vigor and determination. 

While the works were in progress, many con- 
sultations were held by the directors as to the 
kind of power which was to be employed in the 
working of the railway when opened for traffic. 
Two eminent practical engineers reported against 
the employment of the locomotive. The whole 
profession stood opposed to George Stephenson, 
but he still held to his purpose. Urged by his 
solicitations to test the powers of the locomotive, 
the directors at last determined to offer a prize oi 
£500 for the best locomotive engine which, on a 
certain day, should be produced on the railway, 
and fulfill certain conditions in the most satisfac- 
tory manner. A speed of ten miles an hour was 
all that was required to be maintained. Mr. Ste- 



THE RAILWAY PIO]£EER. 31 

phenson, assisted by his son, who had returned 
from South America, immediately set about the 
construction of his famous " Rocket." An import- 
ant principle introduced in the construction 01 
this engine, was the multi-tubular boiler, by which 
the power of generating steam was greatly in- 
creased On the day appointed for the competi- 
tion at Rainhill, four engines were entered for the 
prize: first, Messrs. Braithwaite and Ericsson's 
"Novelty"; second, Mr. Timothy Hackworth's 
" Sanspareil " ; third, Mr. Robert Stephenson's 
" Rocket"; fourth, Mr. Burstall's "Persever- 
ance." Mr. Stephenson's engine was first ready, 
and entered upon the contest. It drew after it 
thirteen tons' weight in wagons, and the maxi- 
mum velocity attained during the trial trip was 
twenty-nine miles an hour— three times the speed 
that one of the judges had declared to be the 
limit of possibility. The average speed was fif- 
teen miles an hour. The spectators were filled 
with a great astonishment ; and one of the direc- 
tors lifted up his hands, and exclaimed, " Now is 
George Stephenson at last delivered ! " The 
" Sanspareil" weighed five hundredweights be- 
yond the weight specified, and was excluded from 
competition. The steam-generator of the " Nov- 
elty" burst, and ended its performance. The 
" Perseverance " did not fulfill the advertised con- 
ditions; and the prize of £500 was accordingly 
awarded to the " Rocket " as the successful en- 
gine. 



32 MEN WHO HA YE RISEN. 

The public opening of the Liverpool and Man- 
chester Railway took place on the 15th of Sep- 
tembei% 1830. Eight locomotives, constructed by 
the Messrs. Stephenson, had been placed upon the 
line. The Duke of Wellington, Sir Robert Peel 
Mr. Huskisson, one of the members for Liver- 
pool, and a large body of distinguished persons, 
were present* for the completion of the work was 
justly regarded and celebrated as a national event. 
The lamentable accident to Mr. Huskisson , who 
was struck down by the " Rocket," and expired 
that same evening,, cast a gloom over the day's 
proceedings. The " Northumbrian " engine con- 
veyed the wounded body a distance of fifteen 
miles in twenty-five minutes- — a rate of speed 
which at the time excited much wonder and ad- 
miration. The success of the railway in a com- 
mercial point of view, was immediate and decisive. 
Soon after the opening, it carried,, on an average > 
about 1,200 passengers a-day. Mr. Stephenson, 
whose energy and perseverance had thus triumphed 
so signally over all difficulties and opposition, con- 
tinued to improve the construction and develop 
the powers of the locomotive. The " Planet " 
was an improvement upon the " Rocket," and the 
" Samson " was an improvement upon the " Planet." 
The number of competitors who appeared about 
the time, stimulated Mr. Stephenson's inventive 
faculties, and he succeeded in sustaining the su- 
periority of his engines. 

The practicability of Railway Locomotion being 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEEE. 33 

now proved, other joint-stock companies speedily 
arose in the manufacturing districts, and George 
Stephenson was appointed engineer of the prin- 
cipal projected lines. The landowners might be 
horrified at the idea of " fire-horses " snorting and 
puffing through their fields, causing prematura 
births among the cattle, and frightening the poul- 
try to death ; but merchants and manufacturers 
did not feel disposed to sacrifice the interests of 
commerce to the absurd fears of timid or superan- 
nuated proprietors. The London and Birmingham 
Railway was the most important on which the 
Messrs. Stephenson were soon afterwards engaged. 
The works were of the most formidable descrip- 
tion ; but the difficulties encountered only roused 
the energies of father and son. The formation of 
the Kilsby Tunnel — 2400 yards in length, and pen- 
etrating about 160 feet below the surface — was 
justly regarded as a great engineering triumph. 
The number of bricks used, according to estimate, 
was sufficient to make a good footpath, a yard 
broad, from London to Aberdeen ! Some idea of 
the magnitude of the works may be formed fron 
the cost of construction, which amounted to five 
million sterling. Practical ability of the highest 
kind, and energy that never flagged, were neces- 
sary to bring such works to a successful issue. 

Mr. Stephenson removed from Liverpool to 
Alton Grange, near Ashby-de-la-Zouch, in Leices- 
tershire, in 1832. He had leased the estate of 
Snibston, certain that coal was to be found in the 
3 



34 MEN WHO HATE KISEK. 

district, and he soon discovered a rich bed of that 
mineral. As railway projects were now springing 
up all over England, he was often called from 
home for the purpose of making surveys. A pri- 
vate secretary accompanied him on his journeys. 
He was averse himself to writing letters ; but he 
possessed the power of laboring continuously at 
dictation. It it stated that in one day he dictated 
thirty-seven letters, many of them embodying the 
results of close thinking and calculation. He 
could snatch his sleep while traveling in his chaise, 
and by break of day he would be at work again 
surveying until dark. He was always fresh and 
energetic, when secretaries and assistants were 
knocked up and unfit for duty. He took an office 
in London during the session of 1836, and this 
office was for many years the busy scene of railway 
politics. 

The importance of the Midland Railway, as 
opening up new coal-markets, Mr. Stephenson 
early detected. " The strength of Britain," he 
would say, u lies in her coal-beds ; and the locomo- 
tive is destined, above all other agencies, to bring 
it forth. The Lord Chancellor now sits upon a 
bag of wool ; but wool has long ceased to be em- 
blematical of the staple commodity of England. 
He ought rather to sit upon a bag of coals, though 
it might not prove quite so comfortable a seat. 
Then think of the Lord Chancellor being address 
ed as the noble and learned lord on the coal-sack ! 
I am afraid it wouldn't answer, after all." He 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 35 

took a lease of the Clay Cross Colliery, in anticipa- 
tion of the London demand for railway-led coal. 
Tapton House, near Chesterfield, thencefor wards 
continued his residence until the close of his life. 

A keen competition of professional ability among 
engineers was excited by the general demand for 
railways which sprang up after the opening of the 
Liverpool and Manchester line. Jealousy, of 
course, also prevailed, and it was long before the 
regular professional men would recognize George 
Stephenson as entitled to the status of a civil 
engineer ! He was an interloper ; he was born to 
be a brakesman, and should have remained so ; he 
had no right to do what he had done ! The ap- 
preciation and generous admiration of genius is the 
last thing that can be expected of your " regular " 
respectable professional men. George Stephenson 
could well afford to despise his detractors, so long 
as the country recognized his power. The desire 
to be original, and to excel Stephenson, became a 
passion with some of the new " fast 5 engineers. 
They proposed undulating railways, atmospheric 
railways, alterations of the gauge, increase of loco- 
motive speed to one hundred miles an hour, and a 
variety of absurd and impracticable projects. Mr. 
Stephenson, in opposition to the " fast " men, de- 
fended *the importance of the uniform gauge, pro- 
nounced the atmospheric system to be " gimcrack,'* 
and declared that the introduction of steep gra- 
dients would neutralize every improvement which 
he had made. The soundness of his judgment in 



36 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

these particulars experience has proved. He always 
kept in view economy, public utility, and commer- 
cial advantage, and gave no countenance to schemes 
that would be prejudicial to the interests of share- 
holders. 

In 1840, George Stephenson publicly intimated 
his intention of retiring from the more active pur- 
suit of his profession, and resigned the charge of 
several of the railways of which he was chief 
engineer. He longed to enjoy rest and leisure in 
the retirement of Tapton House — a place beautiful 
for situation, looking down from its wooded emi- 
nence upon the town of Chesterfield, and command- 
ing an extensive prospect over a rich undulating 
country. He contemplated improvements in the 
garden and pleasure-grounds ; but some years 
elapsed before he could carry them into effect. 
Although he had retired from the more active pur- 
suit of his profession, he was not allowed, nor did 
he allow himself, to rest. He was, in 1844, ap- 
pointed engineer of the Whitehaven and Maryport 
Railway, along with his friend and former assistant, 
John Dixon. He was also elected Chairman of the 
Yarmouth and Norwich Railway. When the 
Thames and the Tyne were connected by a con- 
tinuous line, the event was worthily celebrated : 
Newcastle held holiday ; and a banquet in the As- 
sembly Rooms in the evening assumed the form of 
an ovation to Mr. Stephenson and his son. In re- 
plying to the complimentary speech of the chair- 
man, Mr. Stephenson gave a short autobiogi aphic 



STEPHEKSOX, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 37 

sketch, part of which we have already quoted. 
The High Level Bridge over the Tyne at Newcas- 
tle — one of the most striking and picturesque erec- 
tions to which railways have given birth — was 
shortly afterwards projected by George Stephen- 
son ; but he did not live to see it completed. 

As early as the year 1835, Mr. Stephenson and 
his son had been consulted by Leopold, King of 
the Belgians, as to the formation of the most effi- 
cient system of lines throughout his kingdom. In 
consideration of the great English engineer's valu- 
able assistance, and the services which he had ren- 
dered to civilization, he was appointed by the Bel- 
gian King a Knight of the Order of Leopold. The 
same honor was afterwards conferred on his distin- 
guished son by royal ordinance. When the Sam- 
bre and Meuse Company, in 1845, obtained the 
concession of a line from the Belgian legislature, 
Mr. Stephenson proceeded to Belgium for the pur- 
pose of examining the district through which the 
proposed line was to pass. He went as far as the 
Forest of Ardennes and Rocroi, examining the 
bearings of the coal-fields, the slate and marble 
quarries, and iron mines. The engineers of Bel- 
gium invited him to a magnificent banquet at 
Brussels. " The public hall, in which they enter- 
tained him, was gaily decorated with flags, prom- 
inent amongst which was the Union Jack, in honor 
of their distinguished guest. A handsome marble 
pedestal, ornamented with his bust, crowned with 
laurels, occupied one end of the room. The chair 



38 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

was occupied by M. Massui, the chief director of 
the National Railways of Belgium ; and the most 
eminent scientific men of the kingdom were pre- 
sent. Their reception of the 'Yather of railways' 
was of the most enthusiastic description. Mr. Ste- 
phenson was greatly pleased with the entertain- 
ment. Not the least interesting incident of the 
evening was his observing, when the dinner was 
about half over, a model of a locomotive engine 
placed upon the centre of the table, under a trium- 
phal arch. Turning suddenly to his friend Lop- 
wict, he exclaimed, ' Do you see the Rocket ? ' It 
was indeed the model of that celebrated engine; 
and Mr. Stephenson prized the compliment thus 
paid him perhaps more than all the encomiums of 
the evening." He had a private interview with 
King Leopold next day, at the royal palace of 
Laaken, near Brussels. Mr. Stephenson was gen- 
tlemanly, simple, and unpretending ; maintained 
the most perfect ease and self-possession, and des- 
cribed to the king the geological structure of Bel- 
gium. The " grit barelegged laddie " is now teach- 
ing a king! In describing the coal-fields, Mr. 
Stephenson used his hat as a sort of model to illus- 
trate his meaning, and on leaving the palace, said 
to his friend, " By the by, Lopwict, I was afraid 
die king would see the inside of my hat, for it's a 
shocking bad one ! " He paid a second visit to 
Belgium in the course of the same year, for the 
purpose of examining the direction of the proposed 
West Flanders Railway, and had scarcely return- 



STEPHENSON", THE RAILWAY PIONEEK. 39 

ed, before he was requested to proceed to Spain, to 
report upon a project then on foot for constructing 
the Royal North of Spain Railway. He was ac- 
companied by Sir Joshua Walmsley, and several 
other gentlemen. In passing through Irun, St. 
Sebastian, St. Andrew, and Bilbao, they were met 
by deputations of the principal inhabitants, who 
were interested in the subject of their journey. 
Mr. Stephenson was not long in forming an un- 
favorable opinion of the entire project, and it was 
consequently abandoned. From fatigue and the 
privations endured by him while carrying on the 
survey among the Spanish mountains, he became 
ill on the homeward journey. After a few weeks' 
rest at home, he gradually recovered, although his 
health remained shaken. 

The Ambergate and Manchester line, which re- 
ceived the sanction of Parliament in 1848, was the 
last railway in the promotion of which he took any 
active part. He resided at Tapton House, enjoy- 
ing his garden and grounds, and indulging that 
love of nature which remained strong within him 
to the last. He built new melon-houses, pineries, 
and vineries of great extent, and became eager to 
excel his neighbors in the growth of exotic plants. 
His grapes took the first prize at Rotherham, at a 
competition open to all England. Rivalry was the 
very life of the man, and he was never satisfied 
until he had excelled all competitors. He fed cat- 
tle after methods of his own, and was very partic- 
ular as to breed and build in stock-breeding 



40 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

Again, as when a boy, he began to keep rabbits, 
and prosecuted con amove his old occupation ol 
bird-nesting. From close observation, he was 
minutely acquainted with the habits of British 
birds. He read very little in-doors ; his greatest 
pleasure was in conversation. He was fond of tell- 
ing anecdotes illustrating the struggles of his early 
life. He would sometimes indulge his visitors in 
the evening by reciting the old pastoral " Damon 
and Phyllis," or singing " John Anderson my Joe." 
The humbler companions of his early life were fre- 
quently invited to his house ; he assumed none of 
the high airs of an upstart, but treated them as his 
equals. He was charitable to the needy, and so 
bestowed his gifts that the delicacy of the fastidious 
was never offended. 

" Young men would call upon him for advice or 
assistance, in commencing a professional career. 
When he noted their industry, prudence, and 
good sense, he was always ready. But, hating 
foppery and frippery above all things, he would re- 
prove any tendency to this weakness which he ob- 
served in the applicants. One day a youth, desir- 
ous of becoming an engineer, called upon him, 
flourishing a gold-headed cane. Mr. Stephenson 
said, ' Put by that stick, my man, and then I w ill 
speak to you.' To another extensively-decorated 
young man he one day said, ' You will, I hope, Mr. 

, excuse me ; I am a plain-spoken person, and 

am sorry to see a nice-looking and rather clever 
young man like you disfigured with that fine- 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 41 

patterned waistcoat, and all these chains and fang- 
dangs. If I, sir, had bothered my head with such 
things when at your age, I would not have been 
where I am now," 

During the later years of his life, Mr. Stephen- 
son took a deep interest in educational institutes 
for the working classes. He had many thousand 
workpeople engaged in his works at Tapton and 
Clay Cross; and he established a model educa- 
tional institute, beneficial alike to employers and 
employed. 

The inventive faculty of the eminent engineer 
did not slumber when he retired to the seclusion 
of private life. In 1846 he brought out his design 
of a three-cylinder locomotive. It has not come 
into general use, owing to the greater expense of 
its construction and working. In 1847 he invent- 
ed a new self-acting break. He communicated a 
paper on the subject, accompanied by a model, to 
the Institute of Mechanical Engineers at Birming- 
ham, of which he was president. 

Sir Robert Peel on more than one occasion 
invited Mr. Stephenson to Drayton. He refused 
at first, from an indisposition to " mix in fine com- 
pany ; " but ultimately went. " On one occasion, 
an animated discussion took place between him- 
self and Dr. Buckland, on one of his favorite 
theories as to the formation of coal ; but the re- 
sult was, that Dr. Buckland, a mu^r greater 
master of tongue-fence than Stephens -n, com- 
pletely silenced him. Next morning, before 



4:2 MEN WHO HATE RISEN, 

breakfast, when he was walking in the grounds, 
deeply pondering, Sir William Follett came up, 
and asked what he was thinking about. l Why, 
Sir William, I am thinking over that argu- 
ment I had with Buckland last night. I know 
I am right, and that, if I had only the com- 
mand of words which he has, I'd have beaten 
him.' 4 Let me know all about it,' said Sir 
William, ' and I '11 see what I can do for you. 
The two sat down in an arbor, where the astute 
lawyer made himself thoroughly acquainted with 
the points of the case, entering into it with all 
the zeal of an advocate about to plead the dearest 
interests of his client. After he had mastered 
the subject, Sir William rose up, rubbing his 
hands with glee, and said, c Now I am ready for 
him.' Sir Robert Peel was made acquainted with 
the plot, and adroitly introduced the subject of 
the controversy after dinner. The result was, 
that, in the argument which followed, the man of 
science was overcome by the man of law, and Sir 
William Follett had at all points the mastery over 
Dr. Buckland. c What do you say, Mr. Stephen- 
son ? ' asked Sir Robert, laughing. c Why,' said 
he, - 1 will only say this, that, of all the powers 
above and under the earth, there seems to me to 
be no power so great as the gift of the gab.' On 
another occasion a highly original idea was struck 
out by Mr. Stephenson in conversation with Dr. 
Buckland. 4 Now, Buckland,' said he, 4 I have a 
poser for you : can you tell me what is the power 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 43 

that is driving that train ? ' c Well,' said the 
other, c I suppose it is one of your big engines ! ' 
4 But what drives the engine?' c Oh, very 
likely a canny Newcastle driver.' c What do you 
say to the light of the sun ? ' i How can that 
be ? ' c It is nothing else,' said the engineer ; 4 it 
is light bottled up in the earth for tens of thou- 
sands of years — light absorbed by plants and 
vegetables, being necessary for the condensation 
of carbon during the process of their growth, if it 
be not carbon in another form; and now, after 
being buried in the earth for long ages in fields of 
coal, that latent light is again brought forth and 
liberated, made to work, as in that locomotive, for 
great human purposes.' " Such an idea was more 
an immediate intuition of genius, than the result 
of methodical reasoning. 

Sir Robert Peel made Stephenson the offer of 
knighthood more than once, but he steadily re- 
fused. He was not the creature of patronage, 
and he did not wish to shine with borrowed lustre. 
He gave a characteristic reply to a request that 
he would state what were his " ornamental initials," 
in order that they might be added to his name in 
the title of a work proposed to be dedicated to 
him : " I have to state, that I have no nourishes 
to my name, either before or after ; and I think 
it will be as well if you merely say ' George Ste- 
phenson.' It is true that I am a Belgian knight ; 
but I do not wish to have any use made of it. I 
have had the honor of knighthood cf my own 



44 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

country made to me several times, but would not 
have it. I have been invited to become a Fellow 
of the Royal Society, and also of the Civil En- 
gineers' Society, but objected to the empty addi- 
tion to my name. I am a member of the Geolog- 
ical Society, and I have consented to become 
president of, I believe, a highly respectable Me- 
chanics' Institution at Birmingham." He wished 
to join the Civil Engineers' Institute ; but the 
council would not waive the condition that he 
should compose a probationary essay in proof of 
his capacity as an engineer! Mr. Stephenson 
would not stoop to enter, and turned his back 
upon the Institute. 

In July, 1848, though suffering from nervous 
affection, he attended a meeting of the Birming- 
ham Institute, and read a paper to the members 
" On the Fallacies of the Rotary Engine." It 
was his last appearance in public. A sudden 
effusion of blood from the lungs, which followed 
an attack of intermittent fever, carried him off, on 
the 12th of August, 1848, in the sixty-seventh 
year of his age. The death-pallor lay upon that 
countenance, once so ruddy and glowing with 
health ; the keen gray eye looked no longer upon 
the common light of day ; the brain within that 
massive forehead throbbed no more. A large 
body of his workpeople, by whom he was as much 
beloved as admired, followed his remains to the 
grave. He was interred in Trinity Church, 
Chesterfield, where a simple tablet marks his 



STEPHENSON THE RAILWAY PXONEEK. 45 

resting-place. A chaste and elegant statue of the 
great engineer, produced by Mr. Gibson of Rome, 
was placed in the magnificent St. George's Hall, 
Liverpool. To him, more than any other man of 
this century, the commercial metropolis of England 
owed a debt of gratitude and a tribute of respect. 
Such is a rapid review of the leading events 
in the life of George Stephenson — a life pregnant 
with valuable lessons and large results. He had 
a work to do in this world, and he performed his 
duty ; he fulfilled his mission with manliness, with 
energy, and with success. It is impossible as yet 
correctly to estimate the greatness of the impulse 
he has given to civilization, or to weigh in the 
balance the mighty advantages, commercial, social, 
and political, which he has conferred upon man- 
kind. Future generations will be better able to 
form a judgment and give a decision, when the 
system he originated has been longer in existence, 
and has attained a fuller development. Great 
was the work he wrought, but still greater was 
the workman. We cannot but wonder that one 
born in circumstances so humble, and laboring 
long under so many disadvantages, should have 
been able to exemplify, more perhaps than any 
other man, the masterdom of mind over matter 
He was enabled, through sheer force of intellect 
and never-failing determination, to make all diffi- 
culties and every apparent disadvantage work 
together for good both to himself and to the world. 
Under the stern discipline of poverty and neces 



46 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

sity, lie early grew strong in self-reliance. He had 
the desire to learn, the desire to advance, and that 
desire was accompanied by the resolute will which 
commands success. He never thought of failure ; 
he never dreamed of impossibilities ; he fixed the 
whole strength of his mind upon the end to be 
gained, and the means to be applied. By patient, 
unwearied, self-reliant industry, he rose from ob- 
scurity to world-wide renown, and emphatically 
proved, throughout the whole course of his labori 
ous life, that perseverance is power. By word as 
by example, he strove on every available occasion 
to enforce this important truth. On one of his 
last public appearances, he told the mechanics of 
Leeds that " he stood before them but as a hum- 
ble mechanic. He had risen from a lower standing 
than the meanest person there ; and all that he had 
been enabled to accomplish in the course of his 
life had been done through perseverance. He said 
this for the purpose of encouraging youthful me- 
chanics to do as he had done — to persevere." It 
is remarkable that, although Stephenson was origin- 
ally endowed with a strong mind, an inquiring 
spirit, and great constructive skill, he attributed to 
perseverance all his success. Any man, he con- 
sidered, might nave done what he did by simple 
tenacity of purpose, and the resolution to be un- 
daunted by difficulties. He never plumed himself 
upon the possession of superior powers, nor was 
there any affectation in describing himself as a 
humble mechanic, when he was universally recog- 



STEPHENSON, THE RAILWAY PIONEER. 47 

nized as the greatest engineer of the day. He had 
all the manly modesty, the unpretending, uncon- 
scious greatness, which ever characterize true 
genius. Social elevation did not destroy his nat- 
ural humility. Popular applause he estimated at 
its true value. His personal worth imparted new 
dignity to his mechanical eminence ; his heart was 
as sound as his head ; he was as much beloved as 
he was admired. George Stephenson was, in fine, 
i genuine Englishman — frank, fearless, heroic, 
vigorous in thought and energetic in action. He 
has left behind him a memorable name, and his 
works will ever be his noblest monument. 



THE 

BEGINNING OF THE ROTHSCHILDS. 

On the approach of the republican army to the 
territories of the Prince of Hesse Cassel, in the 
early part of the French revolutionary wars, his 
Serene Highness — like many other pretty princes 
of Germany — was compelled to flee. In his pass- 
age through the imperial city of Frankfort-on-the 
Maine, he paid a hasty visit to one Moses Roths- 
child, a Jewish banker of limited means, but of 
good repute both for integrity and ability in the 
management of his business. The prince's pur- 
pose in visiting Moses was to request him to take 
charge of a large sum in money and jewels, 
amounting in value to several millions of thalers, 
a coin equal to seventy-five cents of our money. The 
Jew at first point blank refused so dangerous a 
charge ; but, upon being earnestly pressed to take 
it, at the prince's own sole risk — nay, that even a 
receipt should not be required — he at length con- 
sented. The money and jewels were speedily but 




THE ROTHSCHILDS— THE REPUBLICAN SOLDIERS. 

• He did not attempt to conceal any of his own property. Ho suffered them to carry it all off.- 



THE BEGINNING OF THE ROTHSCHILDS. 49 

privately conveyed from the prince's treasury to 
the Jew's residence ; and, just as the advanced 
corps of the French army had entered through the 
gates of Frankfort, Moses had succeeded in bury- 
ing it in a corner of his garden. He, of course, 
received a visit from the republicans ; but, true to 
his trust, he hit upon the following means of sav- 
ing the treasure of the fugitive prince, who had 
placed such implicit confidence in his honor. He 
lid not attempt to conceal any of his own property 
(the whole of his cash and stock consisting of only 
40,000 thalers, or about $30,000), but, after the 
necessary remonstrances and grumbling with his 
unwelcome visitors, and a threat or two that he 
should report them to the General-in-Chief — from 
whom he had no doubt of obtaining redress — he 
suffered them to carry it all off. 

As soon as the republicans had evacuated the 
city, Moses Rothschild resumed his business as 
banker and money-changer ; at first, indeed in an 
humble way, but daily increasing and extending 
it by the aid of the Prince of Hesse Cassel's money. 
In the course of a comparatively short space of 
time, he was considered the most stable and opu- 
lent banker in all Germanv. 

In the year 1802, the prince, returning to his 
dominions, visited Frankfort in his route. He was 
almost afraid to call on his Jewish banker ; appre- 
hending that if the French had left anything, the 
honesty of Moses had not been proof against so 
strong a temptation as he had been compelled from 
4 



50 MEN WHO HAVE RISEK. 

dire necessity to put in his way. On being intro- 
duced into Rothschild's sanctum, he, in a tone of 
despairing carelessness, said, " I have called on you, 
Moses, as a matter of course ; but I fear the result. 
Did the rascals take all ? " 

" Not a thaler," replied the Jew, gravely. 

" What say you ? " returned his Highness. 
" Not a thaler ! Why, I was informed that the 
Sans-culottes had emptied all your coffers and made 
you a beggar : I even read so in the gazettes." 

" Why, so they did, may it please your Serene 
Highness," replied Moses ; "but I was too cunning 
for them. By letting them take my own little 
stock, I saved your great one. I knew that as I 
was reputed wealthy, although by no means so, if 
I should remove any of my own gold and silver 
from their appropriate bags and coffers, the rob- 
bers would be sure to search for it ; and in doing 
so, would not forget to dig in the garden ; it is 
wonderful what a keen scent these fellows have 
got ! they actually poured buckets of water over 
some of my neighbors' kitchen and cellar floors, in 
order to discover, by the rapid sinking of the fluid, 
whether the tiles and earth had been recently dug 
up ! Well, as I was saying, I buried your treasure 
in the garden; and it remained untouched until 
the robbers left Frankfort, to go in search of plun 
der elsewhere. Now, then, to the point : as the 
Sans-culottcs left me not a kreutzer to carry on 
my business ; as several good opportunities offered 
of making a very handsome profit ; and as I thought 



THE BEGINNING G* 1 litis xtUTflSeHILDS. 51 

it a pity that so much good money should lie idle, 
whilst the merchants were both ready and willing 
to give large interest ; the temptation of convert- 
ing your Highness's florins to present use haunted 
my thoughts by day and my dreams by night. 
Not to detain your Highness with a long story, I 
dug up the treasure, and deposited your jewels in 
a strong box, from which they have never since 
been moved ; I employed your gold and silver in 
my business ; my speculations were profitable ; and 
I am now able to restore your deposit, with five 
per cent, interest since the day on which you left 
it under my care." 

" I thank you heartily, my good friend," said 
his Highness, " for the great care you have taken 
and the sacrifices you have made. As to the in- 
terest of five per cent., let that replace the sum 
which the French took from you ; I beg you will 
add to it whatever other profits you may have 
made. As a reward for your singular honesty, I 
shall still leave my cash in your hands for twenty 
years longer, at a low rate of two per cent, interest 
per annum, the same being more as an acknowledg- 
ment of the deposit, in case of the death of either 
of us, than with a view of making a profit by you. 
I trust that this will enable you to use my florins 
with advantage in any way which may appear 
most beneficial to your own interests." 

The prince and his banker parted, well satisfied 
with each other. Nor did the gratitude and good 
will of his Serene Highness stop there — on every 



52 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

occasion in which he could serve his interests he 
did so, by procuring for him, from the princes of 
Germany, many facilities both for international 
and foreign negociation. At the congress of sove- 
reigns, which met at Vienna in 1814, he did not 
fail to represent the fidelity of Moses Rothschild, 
and procured for him, thereby, from the Emperors 
of Russia, Austria, and the other European poten- 
tates, as well as from the French, English, and 
other ministers, promises that in case of loans be- 
ing required by their respective governments, the 
" Honest Jew of Frankfort " should have th^ pre- 
ference in their negociation. Nor were these prom- 
ises " more honored in the breach than in the ob- 
servance," as those of princes and courtiers are 
proverbially said to be. A loan of 200 millions of 
francs being required by the French government 
to pay the Allied Powers for the expenses they had 
been put to in the restoration of the Bourbons, one 
of old Rothschild's sons, then residing at Paris, 
was intrusted with its management. The same 
was accordingly taken at 67 per cent., and sold to 
the public in a very few days at 93 ! thereby yield- 
ing an immense profit to the contractor. Other 
loans followed to various powers, all of which turn- 
ed out equal to the most sangume expectations of 
this lucky family, who are now in possession oi 
such immense wealth, that it is supposed they 
could at will change the destinies of the nations of 
Europe. 



THE EISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 

About a week before Whitsuntide, in the year 
1765, at nine o'clock in the morning, a line of 
Manchester bell-horses (nineteen in number), 
loaded with packs and attended by chapmen, 
were seen by the weavers of Irwell Green, de- 
scending from the moors by the bridle-road into 
that hamlet. The weavers (thirty in number, 
or thereabout) stopped their looms, and went 
forth to ask questions about trade, wages, prices, 
politics ; Lord Bute, Grenville, William Pitt (the 
elder), and young King George III. ; and to in- 
quire if there were a likelihood of the young king 
loing anything for the good of trade. 

The spinning women had come forth also from 
heir spinning-wheels, and, in reference to them, 
Ir. William Garland, a merchant (locally called 
a Manchester warehouseman), who had accom- 
panied his pack-horses thus far to make some ar- 
rangements with the resident weavers of this 
hamlet, said, " If the young king would make the 



5i LIEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

lasses spin more, lie would do some good." " Or," 
said a weaver, " an t' king would make a spinning- 
wheel to spin two threads instead of one, it would 
be some good." " Nonsense," replied another; " no 
man can make a wheel to spin two threads at once*, 
no, not even King George* upon the throne." 

The chapmen having baited their horses, pro- 
ceeded on their journey towards Blackburn, which 
they hoped to reach early in the afternoon. "When 
they were gone, the children of Irwell Green 
ranged themselves in a troop across the stony 
causeway, hand in hand, and sang, 

M Bell-horses, bell-horses, what time o 1 day ? 
One o'clock, two o'clock, three, and away ! " 

At the word " away," they raised a shout, ran 
down the causeway, their wooden-soled clogs 
clattering on the stones as loudly as all the 
shuttles of Irwell Green. About two in the after- 
noon, the bell-horses reached Blackburn. 

If the reader should ever visit Blackburn — wind- 
ing through the vales by the turnpike road, or, on 
the railway, through tunnels, over ravines, along 
the mountain-sides — he will find it a town contain- 
ing fifty thousand people, or thereabout, with 
narrow, crooked streets, situated on undulating 
ground. It is surrounded by hills ; and a rivulet, 
a canal, a railway, and several thoroughfares run 
through it. The whole town of gray stone houses, 
with stone roofs, and the country of green pastures 
rising around, are less changed for better or worst? 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 55 

than any other town and neighborhood which ex- 
isted in the middle of last century in Lancashire. 
This has resulted from the early and long sustained 
Yesistance of the inhabitants to the mechanical in- 
ventions which had their origin in that vicinity. 

Being a stranger in Blackburn, you will doubt- 
less visit Stanehill Moor and Peel Fold — the one 
the birth-place of the spinning-jenny, and of James 
Hargrea\ es, its inventor ; the other, of the Peels ; 
and, though not the birth-place of the art of print- 
ing calico, nor, perhaps its cradle, yet certainly its 
infant-school. 

If you leave the town by yonder windmill on the 
rising ground, your face northeast, and, where the 
road divides, take that branch going due east, you 
will, having proceeded about two and a half miles, 
turn to your right hand, and face southward. As 
you approach the village of Knuzden Brook, lift 
your eyes towards the plantation which runs from 
west to east, and crowns that green upland. Be- 
hind that plantation lies Stanehill Moor, in one of 
the houses of which the spinning-jenny w T as in- 
vented ; and that farm-house — with cowsheds, 
barn, and inclosure walls, all built of gray stone 
and r ofed with the same — is Peel Fold. Forty 
acres of that cold, wet pasture land, with these 
nil dings, formed the inheritance of the Peels. 

With this view and knowledge of the estate, it 
will not surprise you to be told that the Robert 
Peel born in 1714, who married Elizabeth How- 
artli of Walnisley Fold, in 1744, and had a family 



56 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

of five sons and a daughter in 1755, was not, as 
some heraldic writers have written, a " yeoman, 
living on and cultivating his own estate." He did 
not cultivate it at all, except a garden for pot- 
herbs ; nor did he live on it in the sense indicated. 
He was a " yeoman," it is true, and sold the milk 
and butter of four or five cows in Blackburn ; but 
he was a weaver also, and was too shrewd a man 
of the world not to educate his sons to industrial 
pursuits of a like kind. They, too, were weavers. 
In yonrler house, to which our footsteps now tend, 
were at least two looms in 1765. His children 
were, William, born 1745; Edmund, born 1748; 
Robert, born April 25, 1750 (whose son, Sir Robert 
Peel, the eminent statesman, died one hundred 
years afterwards, July 2, 1850); Jonathan, born 
1752; Anne, born 1753; Lawrence, born 1755; 
some others who died in infancy; Joseph, born 
1766; and John, whose birth occurred after the 
family were driven out of Lancashire by the in- 
surgent spinning women, probably at Burton-on- 
Trent, Staffordshire. 

Here it may be as well to remark, that, though 
the tradition which the reader is about to know 
is shaped somewhat like a story, we have not 
dared, for the sake of a story, to falsify incidents 
so truly national and historical, though so little 
known. The incidents and domestic economy ot 
Peel Fold about to be described are such as old 
people, with whom we became acquainted a few 
years ago, related. We have conversed with per 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 57 

sons who had seen the Robert and Elizabeth Peel 
now under notice ; who had also seen James Har- 
greaves, inventor of the spinning-jenny ; and the 
fathers and mothers of these aged persons were 
the neighbors of Robert Peel and James Har 
greaves, and had often spoken of them to their 
sons and daughters. 

Some time in the year 1764, one of the boys at 
Peel Fold, in weaving a piece of cloth of linen and 
cotton mixture, spoiled it for the Blackburn cloth 
market. It was taken to Bamber Bridge, near 
Preston, to be printed for kerchiefs, there being a 
small print-work at that place, the only one in 
Lancashire, and, except at Cray, near London, the 
only one in England. The real object of Robert 
Peel, in taking this piece of cloth to be printed, 
was alleged, however, to be a desire to see the 
process. In this he was disappointed ; the works 
were kept secret. Such being the case, he induced 
Mr. Harry Garland, son of the Manchester ware- 
houseman, to take note of the Cray print-works 
when he next went to London with his father's 
pack-horses, and if possible to procure some of the 
patterns, colors, gums, and printing-blocks. The 
first visit of Harry Garland to Blackburn, after at- 
tending to this business, w^as on that day near 
Whitsuntide, 1765. On the afternoon of that day 
(we were told it was so, but it might have been on 
another day), James Hargreaves was " at play," as 
the weavers termed it, for want of weft. His 
wife had given birth to an infant, and was still in 



58 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

bed, and could not spin. The spinning women 
were all too well employed to give him weft, ex- 
cept as a very great favor, though highly paid ; 
and, now that he w^as a married man, favors were 
not so readily obtained. Besides, under ordinary 
circumstances, his wife could spin more weft than 
most other women. She was such an extraordinary 
spinner for diligence and speed, that people called 
her " Spinning Jenny." 

James at last determined to step across " the 
waste " and the stone quarry to Peel Fold, and 
borrow weft. Neighbor Peel he knew to be a 
careful man : doubtless he would have enough for 
the lads (Edmund, Robert, and Jonathan, who 
were on the loom — William was otherwise em- 
ployed), and might have some to spare. True, 
he was a shade beyond being careful — he was 
narrow; but James Hargreaves had taught the 
boys how to use the fly-shuttle — a recent inven- 
tion of the Brothers Kay of Bury. He hoped, 
therefore, they would not refuse a loan of some 
weft.* 

James reasoned rightly. He was accommodated 
with weft, and invited to partake of their frugal 
supper. Had you been present while the rustio 
mess was preparing, and Hargreaves was em- 
ployed in sorting out and counting the copes 01 
weft, you would have observed that the kitchen 

* The weft of a web is the cross threads wound into copes or 
pirns," and placed in the shuttle ; the warp is the longitudinal 
threads. 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 59 

in which you sat was large enough to hold twc 
looms, a carding stock, a reel, and other imple- 
ments of in-door and out-door labor, with space 
still unoccupied. You would have seen the reeds 
and headles to be used in the looms when required, 
hanging from the joists ; the oatmeal jannock (the 
common bread in Lincolnshire in those days), 
hanging over spars, like leather; bundles of yarn ; 
bacon, for family use and for sale ; some books, of 
which one was the Holy Bible, covered with un- 
tanned calf-skin, the hair outside — a part of the 
same skin which Robert Peel wore for a waist- 
coat. You would have seen that he wore a coat 
of homespun wool, undyed ; breeches of the same, 
tied at the knee with leather thongs ; an apron of 
flannel ; stockings made of the undyed wool of a 
black and a white sheep, mixed; clogs, made of 
leather above, and wood and iron below ; a brown 
felt hat, once black, turned up behind and at the 
sides, and pointed before. His sons were dressed 
in the same manner, except that they had buckles 
at their knees instead of leather thongs, and waist- 
coats of stuff like their mother's linsey-woolsey 
gown, instead of calf-skin. You would have seen 
and heard that Mrs. Peel trod the same floor in 
wooden-soled clogs, while the clat-clatting of 
little Anne gave the same intimation. On seeing 
the family seated around the table uncovered, you 
would have observed, by their golden-tinged hair, 
short and curly, that they still retained the Scan- 
dinavian temperament of their Danish ancestors, 



60 MEN" WHO HATE BISEN. 

who, as rovers of the sea, are supposed to have 
brought the lineage and name of Peel to England. 
Their neighbor Hargreaves, you would have 
seen, was a short, broadly formed man, with hard 
black hair. He did not stand above five feet five ; 
Robert Peel stood five feet eleven inches, rather 
more. 

Being seated, and seeing his wife sit down, he 
said, " 'Lizabeth, are you ready ? " to which she, 
having put a portion of the supper on a platter, 
to cool for the younger children, and lifted her 
finger in sign of admonition to be silent and still, 
answered, " Say away, Robert," and bowed her 
head. The father looked around, and, seeing that 
his children had bent their heads and were still, 
bowed his own, and addressed himself to the Most 
High. He besought a blessing on their food, on 
all their actions, on all their varied ways through 
life, and for mercy to their manifold sins. To 
which they all said, " Amen." 

Soon after, William, the eldest son, came in 
from Blackburn. He said Harry Garland and 
other chapmen had come as far as the Pack 
Horse, at the Brook, but had gone in there, and 
he thought Garland was not much short of tipsy , 
they had been drinking at the Black Bull in 
Blackburn before starting. Saying which, he 
asked, "Mother, is there no supper for me?" 
She replied, " In t' oven ; in V dish ; dinnot fear 
but thy share were set by for thee." 

Presently the dogs, Brock and Flowery, began 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 61 

to bark, and the sound told they were running up 
the path toward the plantation. This indicated 
the approach of a stranger. Anne and little Law- 
rence ran, spoons in hand, their clogs clattering on 
the stones, and returned in fright, saying it was a 
man who wore a red coat, and with a sword in his 
hand ; and he was like to cut off the heads of 
Brock and Flowery with it for barking at him ; 
upon which William observed, he dared say it was 
Harry Garland. Robert, the third son, laid down 
his spoon, saying he would call in the dogs ; but 
his father bade him stay ; he would go himself, and 
went. It was Harry Garland. Mr. Peel, desiring 
to speak with him privately about the printing at 
Cray, took him into another apartment. They re- 
mained there more than an hour. The girl and 
the youngest boy looked through the keyhole, and, 
returning to the kitchen, said the stranger was 
showing father such beautiful paper, and such a 
curious piece of wood, and such lovely things. But 
their mother interrupted them, saying, "Howd 
thee tongue, and sit thee down." James Har- 
greaves, thinking, correctly enough, that his pres- 
ence stood in the way of some private business, 
took the copes of weft in his apron, and went home 
Presently the private conference was at an end, 
and the visitor, with Mr. Peel, went to the 
kitchen. 

Harry Garland was a handsome young man, in 
his twentieth year. He had dark brown hair, 
tied behind with blue ribbon ; clear, mirthful 



62 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

eyes; boots which reached above his knees; a 
broad-skirted scarlet coat, with gold lace on the 
cuffs, the collar and the skirts, and a long waist- 
coat of blue silk. His breeches were buckskin ; 
his hat was three-cornered, set jauntily higher on 
the right than on the left side. In his breast- 
pockets he carried loaded pistols, and, dangling 
from his waistbelt, a short, heavy sword, suffi- 
ciently strong to cut the branches from a tree, or 
kill a highwayman. He thus appeared, on or- 
dinary days, in the dress and accoutrements 
which a Manchester chapman only wore on holi- 
days, or at a wedding, or at church. Mr. Peel 
had invited him, when in the private apartment, 
to stay all night ; but no, he must be in Black- 
burn, he said, to go early in the morning to 
Preston. Besides, he had friends at the Pack 
Horse, down at the Brook, awaiting his return. 
Would William, Edmund, and Robert step that 
length with him? Their father, answering, said, 
" No, they cannot go out." They inclined to go ; 
the smart dress of the handsome Harry Garland, 
his lively conversation, his knowledge of the social 
and commercial world, so far exceeding theirs, in- 
clined them to his company. But their father had 
said " No." They said nothing. 

Robert Peel had work for himself and his sons 
which required to be done that night. He accord- 
ingly called them together, and said it was not so 
much that he objected to their being with Gar- 
land, though doubtless they might find more pro- 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 63 

fitable company, as truly as they might find 
worse; but he had objected to their going out 
because there was work to do. "Seest thou a 
man diligent in his business," he quoted, "he 
shall stand before kings." He then told them to 
get the hand-barrow, the sledge-hammer, the iron 
wedges, the pinch (an iron lever), the two crow- 
bars, and the pick, and that perhaps they might 
also require the spade. They put the wedges, 
hammer, and pick on the barrow, and Anne and 
Lawrence on the top of them. William and Ed- 
mund took their places upon the shafts ; their 
father went on before with the spade under his 
. arm, Robert with him, walking sturdily with the 
iron lever on his shoulder. It was a clear moon- 
light night. When they came to the quarry, they 
removed some surface earth and* rubbish, and, hav- 
ing laid bare a stratum of rock likely to split into 
slabs, they began to use the pick. They marked 
a surface of solid stone five feet long and twenty 
inches wide, or thereabout. They made a series of 
incisions along the line, about five inches apart, 
into which they set the iron wedges. After tapping 
them gently, to make their points lay hold, Mr. 
Peel, who was the steadiest hand at the large 
hammer, swung it round his head, and gave each 
of the wedges a blow in turn, until the block was 
rent from the mass, as desired. The points of the 
pick and lever were then inserted in the rent. 
The crowbars, unfortunately, were found to be 
short and powerless. The father and two of the 



64 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

sons laid all their weight and strength on the long 
pinch ; another worked the pick as a lever, and 
poised the block outward and upward. Jonathan 
had a small hard stone ready, and Anne another 
a little larger. The smallest was dropped, as di- 
rected, into the opening. Then they let go with 
the levers, and took a deeper hold, the small hard 
stone keeping the block from subsiding to its 
place. Having got a deeper hold, they gave their 
united weight and strength to the leverage again, 
and the opening being wider, Anne dropped in 
the larger of the hard stones. Again they let the 
block rest, and, getting a still deeper hold, they 
poised it upward and outward further, and Jona- 
than, having got a larger hard stone, dropped it 
in. By two other holds and rests, conducted in 
like maimer, they overturned the block, two-and- 
twenty inches thick, or thereabout, to its side. 
On examining it all round, and detecting no break 
nor flaw, they estimated that, could they split it 
into four equal slabs of five and a half inches thick, 
they would have as many stone tables as were re- 
quired. To split the block into four slabs, it was 
necessary to make three rows of incisions with the 
pick, into which to introduce the wedges. This 
was done, and the slabs being split, were dressed 
a little at the ends and sides. Turning one of 
them on edge, they placed the hand-barrow on 
edge beside it, and brought barrow and stone 
down, the stone uppermost, as desired. Turning 
it crossways, that its ends should project to the 



THE EISE OF THE PEEL FAMILT. 65 

sides, and enable one at each end to attach his 
sustaining strength, Robert and Edmund were al- 
lotted to that duty. Their father and William, as 
the stronger of the four, took their places between 
the shafts — the father behind, William before. 
They got it out of the quarry by the exercise o 
sheer strength. But to get it over the steps 
going out of the waste into the plantation, re- 
quired skill and caution, as well as strength. It 
was both difficult and dangerous. Nor were they 
clear of danger going down the path which led 
athwart the slope. Their feet had a tendency to 
slip, and the stone naturally slid to the lowest 
side ; but the youth who had charge of that end 
kept it up manfully. Without hurt or mishap, 
they got it to the kitchen door. So, in due time, 
they got the other three ; but, before they were 
done, the perspiration was dripping from all the 
four. They sat down to rest and wipe their warm 
faces, and found the time was an hour past midnight. 
There was not space for them all to work in the 
small back room at laying the slabs. The father 
and the two elder sons laid them at the propei 
h eight for working upon with printing blocks, as 
described by Harry Garland. In that room they 
remain at this day, as then laid down. In that 
room the visitor still sees those slabs of stone upon 
which the Peels made their first essays in printing 
calicoes — upon which they took the first step to- 
wards that wonderful fortune of wealth and fame 
which then lay before them unknown. 
5 



66 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

Though the hour was late, young Robert Pee] 
was too full of ideas about designs for the blocks 
he intended to carve for printing, to go to sleep. 
He went out to the moor in the moonlight, to 
gather a handfull of bilberry leaves, or other foli- 
age, which might be copied. (The first thing 
printed at Peel Fold was a parsley leaf.) Going 
to the moor, the youth had to pass near the house 
of James Hargr eaves. He saw a light in the win- 
dow. Seeing a shadow moving, he halted for a 
moment, and that moment revealed enough to de- 
tain him half an hour. He was surprised, not 
alone to see the weaver up at that hour, but to see 
his singular, his inexplicable employment. To 
comprehend what that was, let us return to Gar- 
land's departure from Peel Fold, as told before. 

When Harry had crossed the w T aste, he met 
James Hargreaves, carrying two pails of water for 
domestic use, and asked him to go down the hill, 
and drink a " gill of ale " at the Horse. James 
considered a minute, set down his pails, twisted 
his body, rolled one shoulder forward, the other 
back, chipped the stones of the road with his iron- 
shod clogs, and confessed that he had no objection 
to a gill of ale at the Horse, were it not that he 
had Jenny's gruel to make. But, again, there was 
Nan Pilkington who would make the gruel. Also, 
there was Charlotte Marsden at the Horse, who 
was always at her wheel, and Alice, her sister, who 
also was a spinner when not waiting on the cus- 
tomers; perhaps they might have weft ready 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 67 

which nobody had bespoke. The balance of rea- 
sons for and against going to the Horse was thus 
found to be in favor of going. So, taking in the 
water, and directing Nan Pilkington's attention to 
Jenny's gruel, he called on Joe Pilkington, the 
singing weaver, and both went. 

They joined the chapmen from Blackburn, and 
were soon in a merry mood. Joe Pilkington was 
ready with a song at any time. Perhaps they 
would have sat later than the usually sober hours 
of James Hargreaves, had not an accident oc- 
curred which disconcerted Garland, and suggested 
to Hargreaves to go home. Harry had seated 
himself beside Chailotte Marsden, where she was 
spinning at the further end of the spacious kitchen, 
in this apartment the company were assembled. 
Some who knew tho lofty spirit of the beautiful 
Charlotte, offered to wager with Garland that he 
could not kiss her. The forward youth attempted 
the rash act without hesitation ; upon which she 
called him an Impudent moth, and, rising indig- 
nantly, overturned her spinning-wheel. It fell 
backward. The spindle, which before had been 
horizontal, the point towards the maiden's left 
hand, stood upught. The wheel, which had been 
upright, and tamed by her right hand (its band 
turning the spindle), was now horizontal. It con- 
tinued to resolve in that position, and to turn the 
spindle. In a moment, a thought — an inspiration 
of thought- -fixed the eyes of Hargreaves upon 
it. Garland pursued the indignant Charlotte out 



68 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN. 

of the apartment. The company followed, urging 
him to the renewal of his rudeness, which, the 
more he tried to succeed in, the more he seemed 
to be baffled and humiliated. In their absence, 
James Hargreaves turned the wheel with his right 
hand, it still lying as it fell, and, drawing the rov- 
ing of cotton with his left, saw that the spindle 
made as good a thread standing vertically as it 
had done horizontally. " Then why," his inspira- 
tion of thought suggested, " should not many 
spindles, all standing upright, all moved by a band 
crossing them from the wheel, like this single 
spindle, each with a bobbin on it, and a roving of 
cotton attached, and something like the finger and 
thumb, which now take hold of the one roving, to 
lay hold of them all, and draw them backward 
from the spindles into attenuated threads ? Why 
should not many spindles be moved, and threads 
be spun by the same wheel and band which now 
spin only one ? " 

Hearing the company return, James Hargreaves 
lifted the wheel to its feet, placed the roving in 
its right place, and said, " Sit thee down, Char- 
lotte; let him see thee spin; who can tell what 
may come of this ! " Then, after a pause, and a 
reflection that he should retain his new ideas as 
secrets of his OAvn at present, he continued: "Thou 
may be his wife ; more unlikely things have hap- 
pened ; it will be a fine thing to be lady of all that 
owd Billy Garland may leave some day." 

" Wife, indeed ! " interjected the vexed maiden ; 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 69 

"the moth ! Wife, indeed ! Who would be wife 
to itf» 

" Weel," said James, "be that as it may; but 
I mun go whoam; my wife thinks whoam the 
best place for me, and I think so mysen." 

Remarks were made as to why he was going so 
soon. But Harry Garland had lost spirit after 
the conflict, and felt the scorn of the maiden more 
keenly than any reproof which had ever fallen 
upon his impudence before. He was not in a 
humor to solicit James Hargreaves to remain ; so 
they parted. 

James had reached home two or three hours be- 
fore young Robert Peel observed the light in his 
window. On the lad approaching the window, 
the weaver was standing motionless. Suddenly 
he dropped upon his knees, and rolled on the stone 
floor at full length. He lay with his face towards 
the floor, and made lines and circles with the end 
of a burned stick, He rose, and went to the fire 
to bum his stick. He took hold of his bristly 
hair with one hand, and rubbed his forehead and 
nose with the other and the blackened stick. 
Then he sat upon a chair, and placed his head be- 
tween his hands, his elbows on his knees, and 
gazed intently on the floor. Then he sprang to 
his feet, and replied to some feeble question of his 
wife (who had not risen since the day she gave 
birth to a little stranger), by a loud assurance that 
he had it ; and, taking her in his sturdy arms, in 
the blankets, the baby in her arms, he lifted her 



70 MEN WHO HATE EISEN. 

out, and held her over the black drawings on the 
floor. These he explained, and she joined a small, 
hopeful, happy laugh with his high-toned assur- 
ance, that she should never again toil at the spin- 
ning-wheel — that he would never again "play," 
and have his loom standing for want of weft. She 
asked some questions, which he answered, after 
seating her in the arm-chair, by laying her spin- 
ning-wheel on its back, the horizontal spindle 
standing vertically, while he made the wheel re- 
volve, and drew a roving of cotton from the spindle 
into an attenuated thread. " Our fortune is made 
when that is made," he said, speaking of his draw- 
ings on the floor. 

" What will you call it ? " asked his wife. 

u Call it ? What an we call it after thysen, 
Jenny ! They called thee 4 Spinning Jenny ' afore 
I had thee, because thou beat every lass in Stane- 
hill Moor at the wheel. What if we call it c Spin- 
ning Jenny ? ' " 

It was all a mystery to Robert Peel. He went 
home with his bilberry leaves, and went to bed, 
wondering if Hargreaves were out of his mind, or 
if he, too, were inventing something, or about to 
make experiments in some new process of working. 

The principle of spinning by rollers, usually 
called Arkwright's invention, was not introduced 
until about four years after the invention of the 
jenny. Whether it was original to Arkwright, 
cannot now be told ; but Mr. Baines of Leeds, 
and other diligent inquirers, have established the 




THE SPINNING JENNY. 
•*Our fortune is made when, that is made, he baitl, speaking of his drawings on the floor." — Pagk 70. 



THE KISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 71 

fact that an ingenious man named Wyatt, erect- 
ed a machine at Birmingham, and afterwards at 
Sutton Coldfleld, in Warwickshire, twenty years 
before Arkwright evolved his idea, which w T as in 
principle the same — namely, that a pair of rollers 
with slow motion drew in a roving of cotton, and 
a second pair, with an accelerated motion, drew 
the roving from the other. All the varieties of 
cotton-spinning machinery have sprung from those 
two — the rollers of Wyatt (or Arkwright) and the 
jenny of Hargreaves. A farmer, named Samuel 
Crompton, living at Hall-i'-th'-wood, near Bolton, 
was the first to combine them in one machine ; 
this was called the " mule." 

Returning to the Peel family, we see Robert, the 
son, following the printing of calicoes with enthu- 
siasm. He obtains lessons at Bamber Bridge. We 
see his father engaged in constructing a machine 
for carding cotton into rovings, preparatory to spin- 
ning. Instead of two flat cards set full of small 
wiry teeth, the one card to work over the* other, 
this machine of Robert Peel the elder is a cylinder 
covered with such w T iry teeth. It revolves, and a 
flat card with a vertical motion works upon it. 
The carding by cylinders obtains to this day ; and 
there is no reason to doubt that it was invented 
at Peel Fold. It was, however, first erected for 
use at Brookside, a mile distant, for the conve- 
nience of water power. You look down upon the 
place called Brookside from Stanehill Moor, your 
face turned to the south-west. There, also, Mr. 



72 MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 

Peel and his sons erected the first of Hargreaves 1 
spinning-jennies, which was set hi motion by 
water power, they being previously moved by hand 

It was now, 1766, that the murmurs of the 
spinning women ripened to acts of violence. At 
first the men were pleased with the jenny, which 
gave eight threads of weft instead of one; but. 
when it threatened to supersede hand-spinning 
altogether, they joined with the women in resist- 
ing its use. They marched out of Blackburn in 
mobs, and broke all the jennies, reduced the works 
at Brookside to absolute wreck, and leveled the 
house of James Hargreaves at Stanehill Moor 
with the ground. Hargreaves, his wife and child, 
fled for their lives, first to Manchester, and then 
to Nottingham. After many difficulties, he ob- 
tained the assistance of a person named Strutt, 
and the jenny was brought into use at Nottingham 
(1766-67), also at Derby. Mr. Strutt made a 
fortune out of it, which, with his sagacity, in- 
tegrity, and business habits, has descended to the 
eminent family who still bear that name at Derby. 
It has been said that James Hargreaves died a 
pauper at Nottingham. This was repeated in 
books for many years; but more recent investi- 
gation has proved that, though neither so rich as 
the Strutts, Peels, or Arkwrights, he was not a 
pauper. In his will he bequeathed £4,000 to 
relatives. 

"When the buildings and machinery were de- 
molished at Brookside, the mob proceeded to Al- 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 73 

tham, six miles distant, and destroyed the works 
which William Peel, the eldest son, had erected 
there. Everywhere the Peels were hunted for the 
next twelve months. At last the father turned 
his back on Lancashire, and took up his abode at 
Burton-on-Trent, in Staffordshire, where he es- 
tablished both spinning and printing. Meanwhile 
Robert, the third son, was diligently fulfilling an 
apprenticeship with the Bamber Bridge printers 
already named. When at liberty to enter upon 
business for himself, he selected a green, sunny 
spot, with abundance of water, close to the town 
of Bury, in Lancashire. His brothers did the 
same, at the hamlet of Church, near to which has 
since arisen the thriving and populous town of 
Accrington. 

The wonderful success of the whole family of 
the Peels as merchants, manufacturers, and calico 
printers, is a part of the industrial history of Brit- 
ain. Nothing more can be done here than to 
name it. Robert, from the magnitude of his works 
at Bury, and from his political tendencies, became 
the best known. He married the daughter of Mr. 
Yates, one of his partners in business, and by her 
had a large family. 

He extended his works to other places than 
Bury. Near Tamworth, in Staffordshire, he ac- 
quired property (where there was an abundance 
of water), and built the town of Fazeley, besides 
giving employment to the population of Tamworth. 
In 1790 he became member of Parliament for the 
4 



74 MEN WHO HAYE KISEN. 

latter place. In 1797, when the government was 
distressed for money, he subscribed £10,000 to 
the voluntary contribution. Next year, when in- 
vasion was first seriously feared, he raised six com 
panies of volunteers, chiefly among his own work 
people at Bury, and became their lieutenant- 
colonel. He published several political pamphlets. 
He was the first to claim legislative protection to 
young persons employed in factories. He had 
been careful to regulate his own establishment 
more in accordance with humanity than most of 
his neighbors, and founded his bill of 1802 to 
" ameliorate the condition of apprentices in the 
cotton and woolen trade " on the regulations which 
he had practically adopted. At various times he 
re-opened this question during the next seventeen 
years, but never with that success which he de- 
sired. In 1801, he was created a baronet; about 
which time he purchased the estate of Drayton 
Manor, close beside Fazeley. He died there, and 
was interred in the church of Drayton Bassett, in 
1830, where the escutcheon, with its bees and the 
word " industria," was raised over his tomb by his 
more celebrated son. But there, too, the son is 
now lying — " Dust to dust, ashes to ashes." 

His son, the second Sir Robert Peel, was born 
5th February, 1788, at Bury. His latter years 
were identified with the untaxing of bread, and 
Bury was the first to propose a monument to his 
memory in gratitude for that legislation. This 
monument was completed, and opened to public 



THE KISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 75 

view on the 8th September, 1852. It bears the 
following inscription, quoted from one of his latest 
speeches : u It may be that I shall leave a name 
sometimes remembered with expressions of good- 
will in the abodes of those whose lot it is to earn 
their daily bread by the sweat of their brow, when 
they shall recruit their exhausted strength with 
abundant and untaxed food — the sweeter because 
it is no longer leavened by a sense of injustice." 

From Bury he was sent to school at Harrow, 
where he displayed great diligence and aptitude 
for learning. Lord Byron was his contemporary, 
and, long before the statesman reached his great 
eminence, bore testimony to his unusual ability 
and diligence. He said : " Peel, the orator and 
statesman that was, or is, or is to be, was my form- 
fellow, and we were both at the top of our remove, 
in public phrase. We were on good terms, but 
his brother was my intimate friend. There were 
always great hopes of Peel amongst us all, masters 
and scholars, and he has not disappointed us. As 
a scholar, he was greatly my superior ; as a de- 
claimed and actor, I was reckoned at least his 
equal. As a schoolboy out of school, I was always 
in scrapes ; he never ; and in school he always 
knew his lesson, and I rarely." Mr. Peel pro- 
ceeded to Christ-Church, Oxford. On taking his 
degree, he was the first man in his year. In 1809, 
he obtained a seat in Parliament for the borougL 
of Cashel, in Ireland. In 1810 he was made 
\mder-secretary of state. In September, 1812, he 



76 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

was appointed chief secretary for Ireland. In 
1817, Mr. Abbott, speaker of the House, and mem- 
ber for the University of Oxford, being elevated 
to the peerage, Mr. Peel was elected for the uni- 
versity in his stead. In 1822, he succeeded Lord 
Sidmouth as secretary of state for the home de- 
partment, and, with a short interval, filled that 
office eight years. In 1819, he carried a measure 
effecting great changes in the currency. In 1826, 
he introduced measures for the reform of the crim- 
inal code. In 1828-29, he reformed the police 
system ; and in the latter year, with the Duke of 
Wellington, carried the Catholic Emancipation 
Act. Before entering on this last measure, he 
resigned his seat for the university, and stood a 
new election, but was rejected. In 1830, he suc- 
ceeded to the baronetcy and a magnificent fortune 
as Sir Robert Peel. In 1831-32, he opposed Lord 
John Russell's Reform Bill. In addressing the 
electors of Tamworth, in 1832, he made a declara- 
tion of his principles, which did not seem so true 
then as it does now, when his life and legislation 
are a part of national history. He said : " I have 
never been the decided supporter of any band 
of partisans, but have always thought it better 
to look steadily at the peculiar circumstances of 
the times in which we live, and, if necessities were 
so pressing as to demand it, to conclude that there 
was no discredit or dishonor in relinquishing 
opinions or measures, and adopting others more 
suited to the" altered state of the country." 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 77 

In the month of November, 1834, Sir Robert 
Peel, being in Rome, received a message that his 
presence was desired in London, to place himself 
at the head of a Conservative ministry. He obeyed 
the summons; but the ministry only retained 
office until the month of April, 1835. He re- 
mained out of office until 1841. In that year he 
became prime minister, and, in 1842, surprised 
both his adherents and opponents by the boldness 
of his financial measures. He proposed an income 
and property tax, to supply the deficiency in the 
exchequer, which had been gradually increasing, 
and causing alarm over several years ; and he 
proposed to exempt from the tariff of customs 
duties many hundreds of articles. Some of these 
yielded little or no revenue, and were only a 
hindrance to commercial business ; others entered 
largely into manufactures, as the raw material of 
industry. He still resisted the repeal of the corn 
laws; but yearly his resistance became more 
feeble, until, on the 4th of December, 1845, he 
announced his intention to propose the abolition 
of the corn laws in the ensuing session of Parlia- 
ment. This was accomplished, and the act took 
full effect on the 1st February, 1849. 

In the latter part of the session of 1846, Sir 
Robert Peel resigned office. He occasionall) 
spoke in the House afterwards, but evinced no 
desire to return to office. When His Royal High- 
ness Prince Albert propounded the plan for a 
Great Exhibition of the Industry of all Nations, 



78 MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 

for the year 1851, Sir Robert Peel entered 
heartily into it, was nominated a commissioner, 
and was, up to the week of his death, the most 
unweariedly working member of the commission. 

On the 29th of June, 1850, when riding on 
horseback on Constitution Hill, near Buckingham 
Palace, in London, he was seen to fall from his 
horse. Whether the horse stumbled, or he had 
lost his balance in a fit, no one could tell. He 
was bruised, and so severely injured, that he never 
recovered consciousness. He died on the 2d of 
July, in the 62 d year of his age. 

The following extract from a letter, written by 
the father of the statesman, relating to his father, 
the Robert Peel of 1765, with whom we started, 
is worth perusal. It was written in 1821. He 
said — " My father moved in a confined sphere, and 
employed his talents in improving the cotton trade. 
. . . I lived under his roof until I attained the 
age of manhood, and had many opportunities of 
discovering that he possessed in an eminent degree 
a mechanical genius and a good heart. He had 
many sons, and placed them all in situations that 
they might be useful to each other. The cotton 
trade was preferred, as best calculated to this ob- 
ject ; and by habits of industry, and imparting to 
his offspring an intimate knowledge of the various 
branches of the cotton manufacture, he lived to 
see his children connected together in business, 
and, by his successful exertions, to become, with- 
out one exception, opulent and happy. My father 



THE RISE OF THE PEEL FAMILY. 79 

may be truly said to have been the founder of our 
family ; and he so accurately appreciated the im- 
portance of commercial wealth in a national point 
of view, that he was often heard to say, that the 
gains to the individual were small compared with 
the national gain arising from trade." 

Is there a moral to be derived from the history 
of the Peel family ? It was seen in the obedience 
of the boys to their father in 1765 — "Seest thou 
a man diligent in his business," said he, " he shall 
stand before kings." Harry Garland, the gay 
Manchester chapman, became a ruined spendthrift. 



WILSON, THE OENITHOLOGIST. 

" The name of Alexander Wilson — " Scottish 
poet and American ornithologist " — is dear to 
every admirer of genius, to every one, indeed, who 
loves to think of talent and worth struggling with 
adverse circumstances, and, by dint of patience 
and perseverance, rising to honor and fame. 

He was born in the Seedhills of Paisley on the 
6th of July, 1766. His father (though formerly 
he had been a distiller on a limited scale) followed 
the occupation of a weaver, and at one time pos- 
sessed looms and employed journeymen. In per- 
sonal appearance he is said to have greatly resem- 
bled his son, whom he survived a few years. 

The future poet and ornithologist was, it ap- 
pears, intended by his parents for the church ; 
but his mother, with whom the idea seems to have 
originated, suddenly died, and with her perished 
the young man's hopes of filling the position to 
which he had been taught to aspire. In his 
thirteenth year he was apprenticed to a weaver, 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 81 

an engagement which lasted three years, and 
which was faithfully fulfilled. For four years 
after this Wilson was employed as a journeyman 
weaver — sometimes in Paisley and sometimes in 
Lochwinnoch. It was during these years that he 
was first visited by the muse, and some of his pieces 
gained no little repute in his native town. 

In his twentieth year a new calling opened up 
to Wilson. William Duncan, his brother-in-law, 
with whom he was now employed, having deserted 
the weaving in order to follow out a mercantile 
speculation on the eastern coasts of Scotland, 
Wilson determined, though at an humble distance, 
to follow his example. He accordingly devoted 
himself to the wandering life of a peddler or " chap- 
man," an occupation then more frequently followed 
than at present, the contents of his wallet or 
" pack " consisting of a miscellaneous assortment 
of such articles of dress, bijouterie, &c, as were 
likely to be in request in the houses of the farmers 
or peasantry. A love of " rural sights and rural 
sounds," combined with a certain shrewd talent 
for the observation of character, which distin- 
guished the poet, must have lent a peculiar charm 
to such an employment. The idea occurred to 
Wilson that he might advantageously add a 
volume of poems to the other attractions of his 
pack; and having got prospectuses printed, he 
set out in September, 1789, for Edinburgh — in 
order, as he says in his journal, " to make one 
bold push for the united interests of pack and 
6 



82 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

poems." In his new character of peddler-poet, he 
did not long remain in Edinburgh, but proceeded 
at once to the towns on the eastern coast. The 
Journal which he kept during the excursion was 
afterwards printed with his poems. It is cleverly 
written — a kind of prose of a much higher order 
than his poetry — and contains some shrewd obser- 
vations, with a few sketches of the more remarkable 
characters which fell in his way. In the course 
of his wanderings, he met in with " a school- 
master, who seemed to be a son of Bacchus, learn- 
ing, and snuff; for after several favorable obser 
vations on the specimen (of his poems), and an 
enormous draught of snuff, he declared he would 
most certainly take a copy. ' But remember, 1 
says he, 'by Jupiter, we will offer up one-half 
of its price at the shrine of Bacchus.' " In the 
same town he encountered a brother of the 
rhyming craft, whom u he began to interrogate as 
to his knowledge of poetry, but found him entirely 
ignorant of everything save rhyme. Happening 
to ask him if he had ever read any of Pope or 
Milton's pieces, he told me he never had, for he 
did not understand one word of Latin. I showed 
him my proposals, asked him to subscribe, and 
said I knew the author. He read part of them 
with excessive laughter, declared that the author 
was certainly a learned fellow, and that he would 
cheerfully subscribe, but that his wife was such a 
person that if she knew of him doing anything 
without her approbation, there would be no peace 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 83 

in the house for months to come. c And, by the 
by,' says he, ' we are most dismally poor.' I told 
him that poverty was the characteristic of a poet. 
' You are right,' said he, c and for that very reason 
I am proud of being poor.' " 

After much hard labor and many rebuffs — the 
poet meanwhile subsisting on the sales from his 
pack — he at length got a goodly few subscribers ; 
and having retraced his steps to his native town, 
he engaged with a bookseller, and " rushed on 
publication." His next step was a second peregri- 
nation to deliver the copies which had been sub- 
scribed for. Here again the pack was called into 
requisition, to sustain him during the distribution 
of his "rhyming ware." The few opening sen- 
tences of his journal, descriptive of his setting out 
from Edinburgh, make up a very pleasing little 
picture, not unworthy of the hand which after 
wards threw off the finished sketches in America. 
He says — " Having furnished my budget with what 
necessary articles might be required, equipped with 
a short oaken plant, I yielded my shoulders to the 
load, and by daybreak left the confines of our 
ancient metropolis. The morning was mild, clear, 
and inviting. A gentle shower, which had fallen 
amid the stillness of night, besprinkled the fields 
and adjoining meadows, exposing them to the eye, 
clad with brightest green, and glittering with 
unnumbered globes of dew. Nature seemed to 
smile on my intended expedition; I hailed the 
happv omen, and with a heart light as the lark 



84 MEN WHO HAVE KISEtf. 

that hovered over my head, I passed the foot of 
Salisbury Rocks, and directing my course towards 
Dalkeith, launched among the first farms and cot- 
tages that offered." 

Many mortifications awaited the peddler-poet on 
hi? second trip. He found that many of the par- 
ties who had subscribed for his volume had en- 
tirely forgotten the circumstance, and the greater 
portion " either could not or would not accept of 
it." Odd characters in abundance, as may be 
readily supposed, fell in his way. An innkeeper, 
by way of puffing the poet, and at the same time 
paying a compliment to his own understanding, 
said to the poor author regarding his pieces — 

"They're clever, very clever; but I incline more 
to the historical way, such as Goldsmith's Scots 
History, the Inquest of Peru, and things of that 
kind, else I would cheerfully take a copy." 

On the whole, the result of this expedition was 
very discouraging to Wilson, who, on his return 
to Paisley, was fam once more to settle down to 
the loom. To this " his poverty but not his will 
consented ; " and on another opportunity offering, 
he again deserted it for the fields of literature. 
A friend in Edinburgh having informed him that 
the question, "Whether have the exertions of 
Allan Ramsay or Robert Fergusson done more 
honor to Scottish poetry ? " was to be discussed 
in a debating society called the Forum, Wilson 
seized the opportunity for distinguishing himself, 
and after a few days' hard work at the loom, in 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 85 

order to provide the necessary funds, and a little 
mental labor at home, the ambitious poet set out 
for Edinburgh. He arrived just in time to take 
part in the debate, and enthusiastically delivered 
his poem entitled, "The Laurel Disputed," in de- 
fence of the unfortunate Fergusson. The piece 
gained him some notice and applause, and was the 
means of detaining him in Edinburgh till he had 
composed and recited two other productions, 
namely, "Rab and Ringan," and "The Loss o' 
the Pack." 

Stimulated by the applause he received while 
resident in the metropolis, Wilson, on his return 
to his native town, once more set to the unprofit- 
able business of publishing, by producing a second 
edition of his poems, and again did he depart on a 
thankless and harassing mission to dispose of his 
volume. This turned out as unfortunate as the 
first, and the result of all these high hopes and 
anticipations was the return to his shuttles 
About this time he opened up a correspondence 
with Burns, then in the zenith of his fame, and 
shortly afterwards paid him a visit in Ayrshire. 
Of this interview Wilson always spoke in enthu- 
siastic terms. 

The poet made a great start in the year 1792, 
when the poem of "Watty and Meg" made its 
appearance. This is a piece of rich and genuine 
humor, almost rivaling in its broad and original 
pictures of low life, its pathos and perfect versifi- 
cation, the best parts of " Tarn o' Shanter." In- 



86 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

deed, both poems were universally ascribed to the 
same hand, till Wilson dropped the anonymous 
curtain, under the needless shade of which the 
poem had been issued, and declared himself the 
author. The popularity of this piece was pecu- 
liarly gratifying to the author, this being the only 
effort of his muse which had successfully command- 
ed anything like universal esteem. 

This bright glimpse of sunshine was speedily 
followed by a lowering sky. A dispute hajDpening 
to arise between the manufacturers and weavers 
of Paisley, Wilson at once took part with the 
latter, and in the course of the controversy pro- 
duced an offensive piece of personal satire entitled 
"The Shark, or Lang Mills Detected." This sub- 
jected him to a criminal prosecution before the 
sheriff, in which he was convicted. But his pro- 
secutors were not vindictive. He suffered only a 
few days' imprisonment, and the mortification of 
being obliged to burn his own poem on the stair 
fronting the jail. The folly of these attacks he 
deeply regretted; and many years afterwards, in 
America, we find him rebuking his brother for 
having brought with him copies of the offensive 
Paisley diatribes. "These," said Wilson, throw- 
ing the packet into the fire, " were the sins of my 
youth, and had I taken my good old father's ad- 
vice, they never would have seen the light." 

The mortification consequent on this event, 
combined with the disagreeable prominence he 
had attained in his native town as the advocate of 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 87 

the French Revolution, were the main causes of 
the poet's leaving Scotland. And having made 
up his mind to the step, with the singleness of 
purpose which characterized him, he set about 
gathering the necessary funds, and for four months 
labored incessantly at the loom, confining the 
expenses of his living during that time, as we are 
informed, to one shilling a-week. He was thus 
able to save the sum necessary for the voyage, 
and embarked at Belfast in a ship bound? for New- 
castle, in the State of Delaware, where he arrived 
on the 14th July, 1794. 

When the future ornithologist of his adopted 
country set foot on its shores, his prospects were 
as gloomy as may well be imagined. His passage- 
money had absorbed all his means, even to the last 
shilling. He had no friends, no letters of introduc- 
tion, and his poetical talents, as sad experience 
had taught him, were little calculated to gain him 
favor or friends. But his was not the soul to be 
daunted by circumstances, however untoward ; so 
he cheerfully shouldered his gun and marched 
towards Philadelphia — the same city which, some 
seventy years before, had been entered in simi- 
larly destitute circumstances by one of the greatest 
men of the eighteenth century — Franklin, of ori- 
gin alike humble with the future ornithologist 
(like him, also, destined for the church), but who 
lived to exercise an influence on the affairs of the 
world greater than the greatest monarchs or minis- 
ters of his time. The reminiscence, so interesting 



88 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

in the circumstances, could scarcely escape Wilson, 
and must have infused fresh courage and hope into 
his mind. 

On arriving in the town, his first search was for 
weaving, but none was to be had. Chance threw 
him in the way of a countryman, who was in busi 
ness as a copperplate-printer, from whom Wilson 
procured employment, which, however, was de- 
serted on finding work at his own business. After 
a few months, the loom was again abandoned for 
his old occupation of peddler, in which capacity he 
traveled over a considerable part of New Jersey ; 
meeting with more success, however, than had at- 
tended him in his own country. On his return 
from wandering, he opened a school, and for sev- 
eral yeaf s, in different places, he taught with great 
efficiency and success. To remedy the defects 01 
his education, he began a course of systematic 
study, and among other acquisitions, succeeded in 
gaining a knowledge of mathematics, in which he 
proceeded so far as to be able to survey. After 
several unimportant removals, we find him appoint- 
ed teacher of a union school in the township 01 
Kingsessing, not far from Philadelphia. While resi- 
dent here, he learned that his nephew, William 
Duncan (whose father w^as then dead), had landed 
in New York, with his mother and a large family 
of brothers and sisters ; and knowing that his 
favorable representations of America had been the 
principal means of inducing his nephew to this 
perilous step, Wilson instantly set out on foot for 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 89 

New York, a distance of one hundred miles, in 
order to assist in getting his relations comfortably 
settled. Having accomplished this object, the 
generous man returned on foot to the labors of the 
school-room ; and, from all we can learn, thinking 
no more of the feat than any other ordinary act 01 
duty. 

It was also while residing at Kingsessing that 
Wilson became acquainted with a kindred spirit 
of the name of Bartram, an amiable, self-taught 
naturalist, who has been styled the American 
Linnaeus of the period, and whose residence and 
botanic garden were happily situated in the vicin- 
ity of Wilson's schoolhouse. The love of nature, 
which had always characterized Wilson, here seems 
to have taken firm root ; and from the feelings of 
general interest with which all the works of God 
were regarded, gradually rose a predilection for 
that branch of natural history, the pursuit of which 
was to immortalize his name. The nature of his 
employments at this period are beautifully de- 
scribed in a letter to his friend Bartram : — " I 
sometimes smile to think, that while others are 
immersed in deep schemes of speculation and 
aggrandizement, in building towns and purchasing 
plantations, I am entranced in contemplation over 
the plumage of a lark, or gazing, like a despair 
ing lover, on the lineaments of an owl. Whilo 
others are hoarding up their bags of money, with- 
out the power of enjoying it, I am collecting, 
without injuring my conscience or wounding my 



90 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

peace of mind, those beautiful specimens of Nature's 
works that are for ever pleasing. I have had live 
crows, hawks, and owls ; opossums, squirrels, 
snakes, lizards, &c, so that my room has some- 
times reminded me of Noah's ark ; but Noah had 
a wife in one corner of it, and, in this particular, 
our parallel does not altogether tally. I receive 
every subject of natural history that is brought to 
me ; and, though they do not march into my ark 
from all quarters, as they did into that of our great 
ancestor, yet I find means, by the distribution of 
a few fivepenny bits, to make them find the way 
fast enough. A boy not long ago brought me a 
large basketfull of crows. I expect his next load 
will be bull-frogs, if I do n't soon issue orders to 
the contrary. One of my boys caught a mouse in 
school, a few days ago, and directly marched up to 
me with his prisoner. I set about drawing it the 
same evening, and all the while the pantings of its 
little heart showed it to be in the most extreme 
agonies of fear. I had intended to kill it, in order 
to fix it in the claws of a stuffed owl ; but hap- 
pening to spill a few drops of water near where it 
was tied, it lapped it up with such eagerness, and 
looked in my face with such an eye of supplicating 
terror, as perfectly overcame me. I immediately 
restored it to life and liberty. The agonies of a 
prisoner at the stake, while the fire and instru 
merits of torture are preparing, could not be more 
severe than the sufferings of that poor mouse; 
and, in significant as the object was, I felt at that 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 91 

moment the sweet sensations that mercy leaves 
in the mind when she triumphs over cruelty." The 
first indication of his design to form an ornitholo- 
gical collection is found in a letter to a friend in 
Paisley, written in June, 1803. He says: — " Close 
application to the duties of my profession, which 
I have followed since November, 1795, has deeply 
injured my constitution; the more so, that my 
rambling disposition was the worst calculated of 
any one- in the world for the austere regularity of 
a teacher's life. . I have had many pursuits since 
I left Scotland — mathematics, the German lan- 
guage, music, drawing, &c. ; v and I am about to 
make a collection of all our finest birds." 

Wilson's first designs, though but faint outlines 
of the magnificent plan he afterwards conceived, 
were sufficiently comprehensive to alarm his 
friends, who sought to dissuade him from an en- 
terprise which, as they represented, and with 
much truth, only fortune and learned leisure could 
competently achieve. But the naturalist, having 
formed his plan, set to work with all the indomi- 
table energy of his character, and in October of 
the year 1804, accompanied by his nephew and a 
friend, he began his first bird-seeking pilgrimage 
by a pedestrian tour to Niagara. The travelers 
had undertaken the journey too late in the season, 
and on their return were overtaken by winter, and 
had to travel a great part of the way through 
snow. The perseverance of his companions failed, 
but Wilson set forth alone with his gun and bag- 



92 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

gage, and reached home safely, after an absence 
of fifty-nine days. Regarding this jonrney, he thus 
enthusiastically writes to his friend Bartram: — 
"Though in this tour I have had every disadvan- 
tage of deep roads and rough weather, hurried 
marches, and many other inconveniences ; yet, so 
far am I from being satisfied with what I have 
seen, or discouraged by the fatigues which every 
traveler must submit to, that I feel more eager 
than ever to commence some more extensive ex- 
pedition, where scenes and subjects entirely new, 
and generally unknown, might reward my curio- 
sity; and where, perhaps, my humble acquisitions 
might add something to the stores of knowledge." 

As an evidence of the strength of his resolution, 
he set himself to learn drawing and coloring, and 
the art of etching on copper. In these arts he 
made some progress, but meanwhile his worldly 
means were far from improving. His scholars 
fell off, till the number could not support him; 
but such was the estimation in which Wilson was 
held, that the trustees of the school, on learning 
the state of affairs, generously subscribed for a 
sufficient number of pupils to maintain him. 

In the beginning of 1806, Wilson received in- 
timation that the United States Government in- 
tended despatching a party of scientific men to 
explore the valley of the Mississippi. This was 
an expedition in which Wilson would have re- 
joiced to embark, and accordingly he addressed a 
letter to Jefferson, offering his service ; but much 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 93 

to the chagrin of the eager naturalist, the letter 
was never answered. 

A brighter era at length dawned on the 
hitherto unfortunate projector. A bookseller of 
Philadelphia, Mr. Samuel Bradford, "being about 
to publish an edition of Rees' Cyclopaedia, Wilson 
was recommended to him as a person well qualified 
to superintend the work, and his services were ac- 
cepted. This was an occupation more congenial 
to his mind, and it gave him a better opportunity 
of pursuing his studies, being free from the harass- 
ing cares of a teacher's life." The connection was 
of signal service to Wilson ; for on his explaining to 
Mr. Bradford his views regarding "The American 
Ornithology," that gentleman undertook the risk 
of publication. One material difficulty being thus 
removed, Wilson set himself for some months 
heartily and unremittingly to the duties of 
author; and in the month of September, 1808, the 
first volume of his great work made its appearance. 

The design and execution of the work have 
been truly described as magnificent. But although 
it took the public completely by surprise, yet the 
patronage was so meagre, that the enterprising 
editor was fain to call in on its behalf the old re- 
source of his peddler craft — canvassing for sub- 
scribers ; and, with this view, he set out on a tour 
through the Southern States, which lasted for six 
months, but was only slightly productive of the 
encouragement he was in quest of, though doubt- 
less the naturalist found this and similar expedi 



94: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

tions of immense advantage in the accumulation 
of materials. Of this expedition, Wilson thus 
writes in a letter to a friend : " I have labored 
with the zeal of a knight-errand in exhibiting this 
book of mine wherever I went — traveling with it 
like a beggar with his bantling from town to town, 
and from one country to another." The second 
volume was published in January, 1810, fifteen 
months after the first was issued ; and immediately 
on its appearance, Wilson again started on an ex- 
tensive land and water journey, including a sail 
of 720 miles down the river Ohio. Contrary to 
the advice of his friends, the daring ornithologist 
decided on attempting this dangerous voyage alone 
and unattended. The outset of the expedition is 
thus graphically described : " My stock of pro- 
visions consisted of some biscuit and cheese, and a 
bottle of cordial presented me by a gentleman of 
Pittsburgh ; my gun, trunk, and greatcoat occupied 
one end of the boat ; I had a small tin, occasion- 
ally to bale her, and to take my beverage from the 
Ohio with ; and bidding adieu to the smoky con- 
fines of Pitt, I launched into the stream, and soon 
winded away among the hills that everywhere en- 
close this noble river. The weather was warm 
and serene, and the river like a mirror, except 
w^here floating masses of ice spotted its surface, 
and which required some care to steer clear of; 
but these, to my surprise, in less than a day's 
sailing, totally disappeared. Far from being con- 
cerned at my new situation, I felt my heart ex- 



WILSON, THE OENITHOLOGIST. 95 

pand with joy at the novelties which surrounded 
me ; I listened with pleasure to the whistling of 
the redbird on the banks as I passed, and contem- 
plated the forest scenery as it receded, with in- 
creasing delight. The smoke of the numerous 
maple sugar camps, rising lazily among the moun- 
tains, gave great effect to the varying landscape ; 
and the grotesque log cabins, that here and there 
opened from the woods, were diminished into mere 
dog-houses by the sublimity of the impending 
mountains." This solitary voyage, " exposed to 
hardships all day, and hard berths all night, to 
storms of rain, hail, and snow, for it froze severely 
almost every night," lasted some three weeks; 
and then mooring his boat in Bear Grass Creek, 
at the rapids of the Ohio, and "leaving 
his baggage to be forwarded by a wagon, 
he set out on foot to Lexington, seventy- 
two miles further, where, on the 4th of May, he 
hired a horse and departed on a journey towards 
Natchez, with a pistol in each pocket, and his 
fowling-piece belted across his shoulders. During 
this long and hazardous journey he experienced 
great hardships, sometimes having to swim perilous 
creeks, and having to encamp for thirteen different 
nights in the woods alone. To these inconvenien- 
ces was added a new attack of the dysentery, when 
far amidst execrable swamps. 4 My complaint,' 
he writes, ' increased so much that I could scarce- 
ly sit on horseback, and all night my mouth 
and throat were parched with burning thirst and 



96 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN". 

fever. On Sunday I bought some eggs, which I 
ate, and repeated the dose at mid-day and towards 
evening. I found great benefit from this simple 
remedy, and inquired all along the road for fresh 
eggs ; and for a week made them almost my sole 
food, until I completed my cure.' He was also 
in danger of a tornado, attended with a drenching 
of rain. Trees were broken and torn up by the 
roots, and those which stood were bent almost to 
the ground ; limbs of trees flew whirling past him ; 
and his life was in such danger that he was 
astonished how he escaped, and declared he would 
rather take his chance in a field of battle, than in 
such a tornado again. Nevertheless he seems to 
have enjoyed his journey, and reached Natchez on 
the 17th of May. After enjoying at this place the 
kind hospitality of William Dunbar, at whose res- 
idence he remained a few days, he proceeded on 
his journey, and on the 6th of June arrived at 
New Orleans, distant from Natchez two hundred 
and fifty-two miles. But as the sickly season was 
fast approaching, he did not consider it safe to 
remain there long ; and on the 25th of the month 
he took passage for New York, where he landed 
on July the 30th. He had left home on the 30th 
of January, and all his expenses to this period 
amounted only to four hundred and fifty dollars. 
He arrived in Philadelphia on the 2d of August, 
after an absence of seven months, and immediately 
applied himself with increasing industry to the 
preparation of his third volume." 



WILSON, THE OENITHOLOGIST. 97 

From this period to the year 1812, Wilson 
undertook several other journeys, partly with the 
object of procuring subscribers, and partly also to 
gather fresh materials for his publication, which, 
meanwhile, was rapidly proceeding, and had at- 
tained its seventh volume early in 1813. The 
carrying forward of the grand project which filled 
the mind of Wilson, would, even to a learned 
body with ample materials at command, have been 
sufficiently arduous and exciting ; and what then 
must it have been to a single individual who had 
all his specimens to collect, arrange, and make 
drawings from, and afterwards, in some cases, to 
etch the plates and color the engravings? The 
health of the ardent naturalist gradually gave way 
under the extraordinary exertion, but he would 
hear of no respite from his labors ; " he denied 
himself rest, and spent the whole of the day in 
unceasing exertion." To the remonstrances of 
his friends he calmly said, "Life is short, and 
nothing can be done without exertion." The 
eighth volume of his work was announced to ap- 
pear in November, 1812, and another volume was 
intended to conclude it ; but the gifted author 
was not destined to see the completion of his pro- 
ject. Severe labor and anxiety had now so far 
undermined his constitution as to predispose it to 
yield under the first extraordinary exertion, and 
to a person of Wilson's enthusiastic temperament 
the occasion soon presented itself. The cause 
which led to his early and lamented death was 



»o men who have risen. 

this : " Sitting one day conversing with a friend, 
a rare bird, which he had long been desirous to 
possess, happened to fly past the window. The 
moment Wilson beheld it, he seized his gun, and 
after an arduous pursuit, during which he swam 
across a river, succeeded in killing it ; but the 
consequence was a severe cold, followed by an 
attack of dysentery, which, after ten days' dura- 
tion, ended his mortal career. He died at nine 
o'clock on the morning of the 23d August, 1813, 
in his 48th year, and was interred on the follow- 
ing day — the whole of the scientific men of the 
city, and the clergy of all denominations, attend- 
ing the mournful scene. We are told, also, that 
the Columbian Society of Fine Arts walked in pro- 
cession before the hearse, and for thirty days wore 
crape round their arms. 

Thus ended the life of this gifted man. Of his 
personal character we have said little, leaving it 
to be gathered from the events of his chequered 
career. From first to last he maintained his inde- 
pendence in thought and action, and, if he ever 
strove after the gifts of fortune, it was only, like 
Burns, "for the glorious privilege of being inde- 
pendent." His great work, which cost him so 
many years of the most arduous toil and an 
anxiety ever on the stretch, brought him noth- 
ing more substantial than fame — of pecuniary 
remuneration he received nothing, except payment 
for coloring his own plates. "The American 
Ornithology" ranks amongst the first works op 



WILSON, THE ORNITHOLOGIST. 99 

natural history which any age or nation ever gave 
birth to, and is not less remarkable for the beauty 
and fidelity of the illustrations than for the admi- 
rable spirit and faithfulness of the descriptions — 
a proud triumph for the Paisley weaver, and due 
to his indomitable energy and perseverance. 

Wilson's intense delight in the feathered song- 
sters of the grove was beautifully portrayed in 
the wish he had more than once expressed, " that 
he might be buried in some rural spot where the 
birds might sing over his grave." 



BENJAMIN WEST, THE AKTIST. 

Benjamin West, the earliest and most distin- 
guished of American painters, was born in Spring- 
field, Chester county, Pennsylvania, on the 10th 
of October, 1738. He was the youngest of nine 
children, of excellent Quaker parents, and at a 
very early age gave evidence of a genius for Art. 
When only seven years of age, while keeping flies 
from the sleeping baby of his eldest sister, he was 
prompted to attempt a sketch of the babe in black 
and red ink, which were at hand. The portrait 
was so accurate that his mother, upon returning, 
snatched the paper from his hand, exclaiming, " I 
declare he has made a likeness of little Sally." 
His parents encouraged his efforts, and from the 
Indians he learned the use of the red and yellow 
colors with which they painted their belts and or- 
naments. This was, however, after he had ad- 
vanced somewhat in his artist career. At first, the 
colors he used were principally charcoal and chalk, 
mixed with the juice of berries, while the material 



BENJAMIN WEST, THE AUTIST. 101 

for his brushes were drawn from the tail of a cat 
With these colors and implements, when only nine 
years of age, he drew on a sheet of paper the 
portraits of a neighboring family. When twelve 
years of age he accomplished a more difficult task, 
and drew a portrait of himself. But the knowl- 
edge which he had gained from the Indians en- 
larged his field of operations. His mother's indigo 
bag supplied him with blue, and he now had the 
three primary colors to work* with. 

" Such was the juvenile beginning of the greatest 
historical painter of the last century ; such were 
the first buddings of the genius of that boy, who 
would not ride in company of another, because he 
aspired to nothing greater than a tailor's shop- 
board. 

" ' Do you really mean to be a tailor ? ' asked 
little West. 

" * Indeed I do,' replied his boy-companion. 

" ' Then you may ride alone,' exclaimed the 
young aspirant, leaping to the ground. 4 1 mean 
to be a painter, and be a companion of kings and 
emperors. I '11 not ride with one willing to be a 
tailor ! ' " 

At the age of sixteen, it was determined that 
Benjamin should become a painter. The pursuit 
of such an art was not in accordance with the dis- 
cipline of the Quakers. A meeting was called and 
a consultation held. One of the assembly arose 
and said: " God hath bestowed on this youth a 
genius for Art; shall we question His wisdom? 



102 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

I see the Divine hand in this. We shall do well to 
sanction the art and encourage this youth." The 
women of the assembly then rose up and kissed 
the young aspirant: the men, one by one, laid 
their hands on his head, and thus " Benjamin 
West was solemnly consecrated to the service of 
the Great Art." 

Young West now went to Philadelphia, in order 
that he might pursue his studies with the advan- 
tages which that city afforded. He had free 
access to all the pictures. In the intervals of his 
portait painting, he made copies of celebrated pic- 
tures, especially of a Murillo in Governor Hamil- 
ton's collections. A Saint Ignatius was next copied 
with enthusiasm. His application now became in- 
tense, and the result was an attack of sickness. 
While stretched upon his sick bed in a darkened 
room, the light entering only through the cracks 
in the window-shutters, an incident occurred which 
illustrates the young artist's keen powers of rea- 
soning and observation. 

"As he was lying in bed, slowly recovering 
from a fever, he was surprised to see the form of a 
white cow enter at one side of the roof, and, walk- 
ing over the bed, gradually vanish at the other. 
The phenomenon surprised him exceedingly, and 
he feared that his mind was impaired by his dis- 
ease, w r hich his sister also suspected, when, on en- 
tering to inquire how he felt himself, he related to 
her what he had seen. She soon left the room, 
and informed her husband, who accompanied her 



THE ARTIST. 103 

back to the apartment; and as they were both 
standing near the bed, West repeated the story, 
exclaiming that he saw, at the very moment in 
which he was speaking, several little pigs running 
along the roof. This confirmed them in the appre- 
hension of his delirium, and they sent for a physi- 
cian ; but his pulse was regular, the skin moist and 
cool, the thirst abated, and, indeed, everything 
about the patient indicated convalescence. Still, 
the painter persisted in his story, and assured them 
that he then saw the figures of several of their 
mutual friends passing on the roof, over the bed, 
and that he even saw fowls picking, and the very 
stones of the street. All this seemed to them very 
extraordinary, for their eyes, not accustomed to the 
gloom of the chamber, could discover nothing ; 
and the physician himself in despite of the symp- 
toms, began to suspect that the convalescent was 
really delirious. Prescribing, therefore, a com- 
posing mixture, he took his leave, requesting Mrs. 
Clarkson and her husband to come away and not 
disturb the patient. After they had retired, the 
artist got up, determined to find out the cause of 
the strange apparitions which had so alarmed them 
all. In a short time he discovered a diagonal knot- 
hole in one of the window-shutters, and upon 
placing his hand over it, the visionary paintings on 
the roof disappeared. This confirmed him in 
an opinion that he began to form, that there must 
be some simple natural cause for what he had 
Been, and having thus ascertained the way in 



104: MEN WHO HATE KISEN. 

which it acted, he called his sister and her husband 
into the room, and explained it to them. He prof- 
ited by this investigation ; made a box with one oi 
its sides perforated, and thus, without ever having 
heard of the invention, contrived a camera obscura. 
From Philadelphia West went to New York, 
where he remained during a period of eleven 
months, industriously pursuing his profession — 
working at portraits for his support, and in such 
intervals as he could secure, laboring with un- 
diminished zeal and enthusiasm at original com- 
positions. His successes now determined him to 
visit Italy. Although almost self-taught, and with 
no advantages in the way of fortune or birth, 
young West had been more fortunate, had ad- 
vanced more smoothly on the road to fame and 
position, than is common with those who essay 
the paths of ambition. His genius had been re- 
cognized from the beginning ; friends had not 
withheld their aid or countenance ; he had even 
succeeded in accumulating means sufficient for his 
contemplated visit to the classic shores of Italy. 
Among the earliest of his friends was the father of 
the immortal General Wayne. This gentlemai 
saw the first crude-sketches of the boy, and pur- 
chased some of his drawings. A Mr. Pennington 
also encouraged and patronized the lad ; and when 
he removed to Philadelphia, he there experienced 
no lack of supporters and friends. When he de- 
termined to sail for Italy, he was engaged upon the 
portrait of Mr. Kelly, a merchant of New York. 



BENJAMIN WEST, THE ARTIST. 105 

To this gentleman he mentioned his plan, who ap- 
proved of it, and gave him a letter to his agents in 
Philadelphia, from which place he intended to sail. 
West presented the letter, and was surprised to 
find that it contained an order for fifty guineas — 
" a present to aid in his equipment for Italy." 
These instances prove that West did not experi- 
ence that neglect and poverty, which so frequent- 
ly cloud the dawning efforts of genius. 

West embarked in 1760; reached Leghorn in 
safety, and thence proceeded to Rome, which he 
entered on the 10th of July, 1760. With regret 
it must be said that he never returned to America. 

Among West's letters of introduction was one 
to Cardinal Albani, a great connoisseur, although 
nearly blind. An amusing anecdote is related of 
his interview with this personage. The Cardinal 
passed his hand over the face of the young artist, 
in order to judge of his features. 

" This young savage," said he, " has good fea- 
tures ; but what is his complexion ? Is he black or 
white ? " 

The gentleman who introduced West replied 
that he was u very fair." 

" What ! " exclaimed the Cardinal ; " as fair as T 
am?" 

The interrogation caused no little mirth, for th 
Cardinal was not remarkable for his beauty in this 
paitficular. 

West remained three years in Italy, visiting 

Florence, Bologna, and Venice, and everywhere 
5* 



106 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

meeting the most gratifying encouragement, and 
the amplest recognition of his genius. He now 
made his preparations for returning to America, 
but first determined to visit England, where he ar- 
rived in August, 1763. In London he found so 
much encouragement, that, contrary to his first in- 
tention, he determined to settle there. He made 
the acquaintance of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Nelson 
the landscape painter, Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke, 
and other distinguished personages in that age of 
great men : he was also introduced to the young 
king George III., who commanded him to paint 
The Departure of Hegulus. He became establish- 
ed in popular favor almost immediately. Com- 
missions poured in upon him. His rank, as among 
the first of the living historical painters, became 
everywhere conceded. Lord Rockingham offered 
the successful artist three thousand five hundred 
a-year, if he would undertake to embellish his 
family mansion with pictures. West declined. He 
wished to keep before the public. 

Prior to his departure from America, he had 
won the affections of a young lady of the name of 
Shewell. His position was now secured, and he 
desired to make her his wife. At first he purposed 
to return to America with the object of effecting 
the marriage, but this was prevented by his father, 
who took the bride to England, where the mar- 
riage was consummated, West then being tw»ty- 
seven years of age. 

In 1768, West, in conjunction with Sir Joshua 



BENJAMIN WEST, THE ABTIST. 107 

Reynolds and the King, established the Royal 
Academy. Sir Joshua was the first president, 
but, after his death, West was unanimously elected 
to that honorable position, which he held to the 
time of his death. 

We cannot, in this brief sketch, attempt to 
dwell upon the various productions of West's pro- 
lific pencil. His Death of Wolfe, one of his earlier 
efforts, achieved a world-wide reputation, not 
only as a work of art, but as exhibiting a broad 
innovation on the customs and usages of artists. 
Up to that period, it had been customary to cos- 
tume the characters in modern heroic pieces in the 
flowing robes of ancient Greek and Roman heroes. 
West rejected the teaching, and in spite of many 
remonstrances, he depicted the characters in this 
celebrated picture in the actual dress of the time. 
The result justified the attempt. It was a success. 
Even Reynolds, who had resolutely opposed the 
innovation, exclaimed, when he saw the painting, 
"West has conquered. I retract. This picture 
will occasion a revolution in art." The King's 
admiration for the artist was almost unbounded, 
He gave West an order for painting thirty grand 
pictures, illustrative of revealed religion, for a new 
chapel at Windsor Castle. West designed them 
all, and completed twenty-eight. "A work so 
varied, so extensive and so noble, was never under- 
taken by any painter ; " but when insanity clouded 
the mind of the king, West was neglected, and 
the series were discontinued. But our artist, in 



108 MEN WHO HAVE EISEN. 

losing royal patronage, still retained the favor oi 
the public. He never lacked commissions ; and as he 
labored diligently and with earnestness, the num- 
ber of his productions were immense. It has 
been stated, that to exhibit all his works it would 
take a gallery four hundred feet long, fifty in 
breadth, and forty in height. The sums that he 
received were large, not less in the aggregate, 
during his residence in England, than $500,000. 

In December, 1817, occurred the death of Mrs. 
West, and three years later, in the eighty-second 
year of his age, the artist departed this life. He was 
buried with great pomp in St. Paul's Cathedral. 

"The last illness of Mr. West," says Mr. Gait 
" was slow and languishing. It was rather a gen 
eral decay of nature than any specific malady; 
and he continued to enjoy his mental faculties in 
perfect distinctness upon all subjects as long as the 
powers of articulation could be exercised. To his 
merits as an artist and a man I may be deemed 
partial, nor do I wish to be thought otherwise. I 
have enjoyed his frankest confidence for many 
years, and received from his conversation the ad- 
vantages of a more valuable species of instruction, 
relative to the arts, than books alone can supply 
to one who is not an artist. While I therefore 
admit that the partiality of friendship may tincture 
my opinion of his character, I am yet confident 
that the general truth of the estimate will be ad- 
mitted by all who knew the man, or are capable 
to appreciate the merits of his works. 



BENJAMIN" WEST, THE ARTIST. 109 

" In his deportment Mr. West was mild and 
considerate ; his eye was keen, and his mind apt ; 
but he was slow and methodical in his reflections, 
and the sedateness of his remarks must often, in 
his younger years, have seemed to strangers sin- 
gularly at variance with the vivacity of his look. 
That vivacity, however, was not the result of any 
particular animation of temperament ; it was rather 
the illuminations of his genius; for, when his 
features were studiously considered, they appeared 
to resemble those which we find associated with 
dignity of character in the best productions of art. 
As an artist, he will stand in the first rank ; his 
name will be classed with those of Michael Angelo 
and Rafiaelle ; but he possessed little in common 
with either. As the former has been compared to 
Homer and the latter to Virgil, in Shakspeare we 
shall perhaps find the best likeness to the genius 
of Mr. West. He undoubtedly possessed but in a 
slight degree that energy and physical expression 
of character in which Michael Angelo excelled, 
and in a still less degree that serene sublimity 
which constitutes the charm of Raffaelle's great 
productions ; but he was their equal in the fullness, 
the perspicuity, and the propriety of his composi- 
tions. In all his great works, the scene intended 
to be brought before the spectator is represented 
in such a manner that the imagination has noth- 
ing to supply. The incident, the time, and the 
place are there as we think they must have been ; 
and it is this wonderful force of conception which 



110 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

renders the sketches of Mr. West so much more 
extraordinary than his finished pictures. In the 
finished pictures we naturally institute comparisons 
in coloring, and in beauty of figure, and in a thou- 
sand details which are never noticed in the sketches 
of this illustrious artist ; but, although his powers 
of conception were so superior, equal in their ex- 
cellence to Michael Angelo's energy or Rafaelle's 
grandeur, still, in the inferior departments of draw- 
ing and coloring he was one of the greatest artists 
of his age. It was not, however, till late in life 
that he executed any of those works in which he 
thought the splendor of the Venetian school might 
be judiciously imitated. At one time he intended 
to collect his works together, and to form a gen- 
eral exhibition of them all. Had he accomplished 
this, the greatness and versatility of his talents 
would have been established beyond all contro- 
versy; for unquestionably he was one of those 
great men whose genius cannot be justly estimated 
by particular works, but only by a collective in- 
spection of the variety, the extent, and the num- 
ber of their productions." 



ASTOK, THE MILLION AIEE. 

In July, 1763, the worthy and profound bailiff of 
the village of Waldrop, near Heidelberg, in the 
duchy of Baden, had a son born unto him. He 
had had several sons, but this particular one was 
designated John Jacob, two names with wonder- 
ful opposite significations. John is one of your 
soft, gentle names, full of urbanity, with a touch 
of dignity ; it means gracious, and would suit a 
condescending monarch well. Jacob, on the other 
hand, is just the name for a money-maker ; it is 
quite a pecuniary name. The wealth of Laban of 
old consisted of flocks ; and Jacob manifested as 
much adroitness in the accumulation of these as 
in the supplanting of Esau. Jacob means a sup- 
planter; that is, one who trips up somebody's 
heels and takes his place. John Jacob Astor 
began life with auguries of success. He was a 
German ; had a worthy, cautious, and wise father, 
who did not spare him of good advice, and equally 
good example. The Germans, like the Scotch, 



112 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

are brought up with a predisposition for emigra- 
tion. One of the German tendencies is to leave 
home. Preparatory to departing from the place 
of his nativity, John Jacob Astor had been in 
structed in what was right and wrong in a worldl) 
sense ; so that, when he packed up his scanty 
wardrobe and took leave of Waldrop, he deter- 
mined that honesty, industry, and total abstinence 
from the immoral practice of gambling, should 
mark his conduct through life. At eighteen years 
of age John Jacob steered his course for London, 
where he had a brother resident. With a few 
wearables in his bundle — coarse home-made clothes, 
blue cap, keel, and heavy hobnailed shoes — he 
landed in the great city. He had two brothers 
who had emigrated. One was a musical instru- 
ment maker in London, the other a butcher in New 
York ; but he does not seem to have thriven under 
the auspices of the brother in Britain, during the 
three years that he remained hi England. This 
residence was of advantage to him, however, for 
he acquired the English tongue, which was indis- 
pensable to him in his new sphere of action. 

The revolutionary war had just ceased; eight 
years of fiery ordeal had been passed through ; the 
Americans had attained independence, and the 
hopeful and aspiring youth of Europe were hasten- 
ing to the now open ports of the New World. 
With various articles of manufacture as his whole 
wealth, among the most valuable of which were 
seven flutes, presented to him by his brother, John 



ASTOR, THE MILLIONAIRE. 113 

Jacob Astor embarked in November, 1784, as a 
steerage passenger on board of an emigrant ship 
bound for the United States. The voyage was 
long and tedious, the ship being retarded by ice 
for nearly three months in the Chesapeake. Dur- 
ing this protracted detention in the river, the pas- 
sengers went on shore occasionally, and Astor had 
time to form and perfect a friendship with a young 
countryman of his own, a furrier to trade, who 
induced him to turn his attention to his art, and 
generously offered to assist him in the acquirement 
thereof, and to go to New York with him. When 
he arrived at New York, the young German sold 
his flutes and other property, and immediately in- 
vested the small capital arising therefrom in furs. 
These he carried to London and sold; and then, 
returning to New York, high in hope, he appren- 
ticed himself to the fur trade, in Gold-street, where 
he commenced beating skins. He had not been 
long here until he sufficiently understood the trade 
to embark in it as a capitalist ; and he had at the 
same time manifested so much diligence and in- 
dustry as to obtain the notice of Robert Bowne, 
a good old Quaker, who carried on an extensive 
business in New York as a furrier. Employed by 
Bowne as clerk, Astor recommended himself so 
highly by his industry and probity as to command 
the respect of the old Quaker, and his entire con- 
fidence. In this situation he made himself tho- 
roughly acquainted with the nature of the fur 
trade, coming in contact with the agents, and ob- 
8 



114 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

taining a complete knowledge of the methods and 
profits of the traffic. 

When the revolutionary war closed, Oswego, 
Detroit, Niagara, and other posts, were in the 
hands of the British ; and as these were the entre 
pots of the western and northern countries, the 
fur trade had languished after their capture and 
during their detention. The traders had been 
either driven away or drafted into the armies; 
the trappers had ranged themselves on either side 
of the political contention ; and the Indians ob- 
tained more fire-water and calico for the use of 
their mercenary rifles and tomahawks from Great 
Britain, in this her domestic quarrel with the 
colonists, than if they had employed them on 
beavers and squirrels. After much negotiation 
and surveying, and the advancement and considera- 
tion of claims, these posts were conceded to the 
United States, and Canada was open to the fur 
trade. Astor had received from his brother Harry, 
a rich butcher in Bowery, an advancement of a 
few thousand dollars; these he had already em- 
barked in the fur trade, in 1794, and shortly after- 
wards the British retired from the west side of St. 
Clair, opening up to the enterprising sons of 
America the great fur trade of the west. The 
cautious, acute German saw that the posts now 
free would soon be thronged by Indians eager to 
dispose of the accumulated produce of several 
years' hunting, and that the time was now come 
when he was' certain to amass a large fortune by 



115 

the traffic. He immediately established agencies, 
over which he exercised a sort of personal super 
intendence, visiting the stations sometimes, but 
chiefly devoting himself to the New York busi 
ness. The result verified the sagacious predictions 
of the adventurous trader, for in six years he is 
said to have accumulated the enormous sum of 
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. This sum 
was not stored up, but invested in stock which 
was likely to yield large returns. 

The British fur companies had, however, built 
their block-forts at almost every eligible site on 
the rivers of the northern and south-western parts 
of the American continent, and were soon likely 
to monopolize the whole of the fur trade, unless 
some bold measures were adopted to rescue it 
from them. This Astor attempted in 1803, 
by establishing the American Fur Company. 
The hardy adventurers who entered into this 
project, boldly pushed their outposts far into 
the hitherto unknown prairie, and raised their 
forts upon the banks of yet unexplored rivers. 
Tribes unused to see the white man, and who 
only knew him through vague tradition, or in a 
passing tale from some visitor of another tribe, 
now saw and knew him, and brought their abun- 
dance of beaver, otter, and buifalo skins, and laid 
them at his feet for muskets, powder, and fire- 
water. 

If there is a genius in money-making, Astor 
surely possessed it. He had that insatiable thir«* 



116 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

peculiar to genius— that desire that expands and 
rises with success. The American Fur Company 
was no sooner established and in operation than 
he cast his sagacious, cunning little eyes towards 
the region stretching from the Rocky Mountains 
to the ocean. He proposed to the United States 
government the establishment of a line of forts 
along the shores of the Pacific Ocean and on the 
Columbia river, in order to take from the hands of 
the British all facilities for establishing a trade 
west of the Rocky Mountains. The project was 
agreed to; and, in 1810, sixty men, under the 
command of a hardy and adventurous leader (W. 
P. Hunt), established the first post at the mouth 
of the Columbia, which took its designation of 
Astoria from the projector of the scheme. This 
became the germ of the budding State of Oregon. 
Then commenced a series of operations on a scale 
altogether beyond anything hitherto attempted by 
individual enterprise. The history is full of 
wildest romance ; and the chaste pen of Irving has 
wo\en the wonderful incidents into a charming 
narrative. We cannot even glance at it in this 
brief memoir. The whole scheme was the offspring 
of a capacious mind ; and had the plans of Mr. 
Astor been faithfully carried out by his associates, 
it would, no doubt, have been eminently success- 
ful. But the enterprise soon failed. During the 
war a British armed sloop captured Astoria, and 
the British fur traders entered upon the rich field 
which Mr. Astoi had planted, and reaped the 



ASTOR, THE MILLIONAIRE. 117 

golden harvest. When the war had ended, and 
Astoria was left within the domain of the United 
States by treaty, Mr. Astor solicited the govern- 
ment to aid him in recovering his lost possessions 
Aid was withheld, and the grand scheme of open 
ing a highway across the continent, with a con 
tinuous chain of military and trading posts, which 
Mr. Astor laid before President Jefferson, became 
a mere figment of history, over which sound 
statesmen soon lamented. 

From the period of the establishment of the 
American Fur Company, Mr. Astor had not only 
covered an immense tract of inland country and 
coast with the depots of his wealth, but he had 
also multiplied the number of his ships until they 
exceeded the marine of some of the smaller Euro- 
pean States. He had ships freighted with furs 
trading to the ports of France, England, Germany, 
and Russia, and carrying peltries to Canton, 
whence they came laden with teas, silks, spices, 
and the other products of the East. On every 
sea, laden with the richest cargoes, and consigned 
to every port of note, were the vessels of this 
German lad, who, in 1784, with only a few flutes 
and several other articles in his chest, landed from 
the steerage of an English emigrant ship upon the 
quay of New York. With the sagacity of a Frank- 
lin, Astor purchased a good deal of the land lying 
round New York. Perceiving the rapid growth 01 
the city, he knew that this land, prospectively, was 
of immense value, and for a long time he invested 



118 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

two-thirds of his yearly income in the purchase of 
an estate, which he took care never to mortgage. 
Through the natural growth of the city, the re- 
turns from his real estate yearly increased till it 
reached an enormous amount. Speculating upon 
the settlement of Iowa, Missouri, Wisconsin, and 
other parts of the west, he purchased immense 
tracts at the goverment price, which, of course 
the settlers will be constrained to take at an ad- 
vance. The labor of generations yet unborn, the 
inhabitants of nations yet unknown, is mortgaged 
in this way to the descendants of John Jacob 
Astor. From indigence equal to that of the poor 
itinerant lads who perambulate our streets with 
organs, this man rose to be second only to the 
Rothschilds in wealth, in a shortness of time almost 
incredible. 

It must be mentioned to the honor of this ple- 
thoric old Croesus, however, that he lent his aid 
to many works of public utility and philanthropy ; 
he gave 350,000 dollars for the foundation of a 
library in New York, the interest to be expended 
in the erection of a building and the employment 
of agents for the purchase of books. He also gave 
a large sum of money to his native town, for the 
purpose of founding an institution for the educa- 
tion of the young, and as a retreat for indigent 
aged persons. The Astor Library in New York, 
and the Astor House in Walldorf, were both open- 
ed in 1854. The following amusing anecdote is 
told of him, in the double character of a patron of 



ASTOR, THE MILLIONAIRE. 119 

literature and parsimonious money-holder, which 
appears to be exceedingly characteristic : Among 
the subscribers to Audubon's magnificent work on 
ornithology, the subscription price of which was 
1,000 dollars a copy, appeared the name of John 
Jacob Astor. During the progress of the work, 
the prosecution of which was exceedingly expen- 
sive, M. Audubon, of course, called upon several 
of his subscribers for payments. It so happened 
that Mr. Astor (probably that he might not be 
troubled about small matters) was not applied to 
before the delivery of all the letterpress and plates. 
Then, however, Audubon asked for his thousand 
dollars ; but he was put off with one excuse or 
another. "Ah, M. Audubon," would the owner 
of millions observe, " you come at a bad time ; 
money is very scarce ; I have nothing in bank ; I 
have invested all my funds." At length, for the 
sixth time, Audubon called upon Astor for his 
thousand dollars. As he was ushered into the 
presence, he found William B. Astor, the son, con- 
versing with his father. No sooner did the rich 
man see the man of art, than he began, "Ah, M. 
Audubon, so you have come again after your mo- 
ney. Hard times, M. Audubon — money scarce." 
But just then, catching an inquiring look from his 
son, he changed his tone: "However, M. Audu- 
bon, I suppose we must contrive to let you have 
some of your money, if possible. William," he 
added, calling to his son, who had walked into an 
adjoining parlor, "have we any money at all in the 



120 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

bank?" " Yes, father," replied the son, suppos- 
ing that he was asked an earnest question perti- 
nent to what they had been talking about when 
the ornithologist came in, " we have two hundred 
and twenty thousand dollars in the Bank of New 
York, seventy thousand in the City Bank, ninety 
thousand in the Merchants', ninety-eight thousand 
four hundred in the Mechanics', eighty-three thou- 
sand ." " That'll do, that'll do," exclaimed 

John Jacob, interrupting him. " It seems that 
William can give you a check for your money." 

Mr. Astor married shortly after his settlement 
in America, and had four children — two sons and 
two daughters. He died on 29th March, 1848, at 
his residence, Broadway, aged eighty-five years. 

The singular life and growth in wealth of John 
Jacob Astor offers many interesting reflections. 
There is assuredly scarcely another individual who 
has contrived to accumulate so much of the world's 
capital. The Rothschilds and Barings have, it is 
true, acquired magnificent fortunes through usury, 
but the process has been infinitely more tedious 
than that of Astor. Their money was acquired 
through the exigencies of exchequers. Astor's 
was gained in trade — by what may be termed a 
gigantic system of concentration, through which 
the wealth of savage tribes was made to flow by 
semi-civilized agents into the coffers of the prime 
mover of the system. 



HUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER 

William Hutton, according to his very inter- 
esting autobiography, was born in Derby, Eng- 
land. He remarks that there were no prognosti- 
cations prior to his birth, except that his father, a 
day before, was chosen constable. But a circum- 
stance occurred, which, he believes, never had hap- 
pened before in his family — the purchase of a 
cheese, price half a guinea, so large as to merit a 
wheel-barrow to bring it home. When about two 
years and a half old he was sent to Mount Sorrel, 
where he had an uncle, who was a bachelor; also 
a grandmother who kept his house. With this 
uncle, and three crabbed aunts, all single, who re- 
sided together at Swithland, about two miles dis- 
tant from his uncle's, he lived alternately for about 
fifteen months. Here he was put into breeches ; 
but he was considered an interloper, and treated 
with much ill-nature. One of his aunts was un- 
happily addicted to drinking ; and he says, that 
upon one occasion when he was out with her, she 



122 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN. 

called at an ale-house and got so very tipsy that 
she could neither stand nor walk. This was a 
scene that often occurred, and though he was very 
young, it seems to have made such an impression 
upon him as to cause him to look ever afterwards 
upon this vice with disgust and abhorrence. His 
father, too, was so given to the same debasing 
habit that he squandered the pittance he was able 
to earn as a journeyman wool-comber, while his 
wife and family were oftentimes nearly starved for 
want of bread. Between the age of four and six, 
Hutton, by some contrivance or other, was sent to 
school, where he was most harshly treated by his 
teacher, who often took occasion to beat his head 
against the wall, holding it by the hair, but with- 
out being able to drive any learning into it, for he 
hated all books but those containing pictures. 
This was the only schooling he ever had. 

When Hutton was six years old, consultations 
were held about fixing him in some employment 
for the benefit of the family. Winding quills for 
the weaver was mentioned, but this was dropped. 
Stripping tobacco for the grocer, in which he was 
to earn four-pence a week, was also proposed ; but 
it was at last concluded that he was too young for 
any employment. The year following, however 
he was placed in a silk mill in the town of Derby, 
where for seven years he had to work ; rising at 
five in the morning, summer and winter ; submit- 
ting to the cane whenever his master thought pro- 
per to make use of it ; the constant companion of 



HTTTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 123 

the most rude and vulgar of the human race; 
never taught by nature, and never wishing to be 
taught. In the year 1731, about Christmas, there 
was a very sharp frost, followed by a thaw ; and 
another frost, when the streets were again glazed 
with ice. On awaking one night it seemed day- 
light. Hutton rose in tears, being fearful of pun- 
ishment, and went to his father's bedside to ask 
what was the clock. He was told it was about 
six. He then darted out in terror ; and from the 
bottom of Fall-street to the top of Silkmill Lane, 
not 200 yards, he fell down nine times. Observ- 
ing no light in the mill, he perceived it was still 
very early, and that the reflection of the snow 
into his bed-room window must have deceived 
him. As he was returning home it struck two. 

On the 9th of March, 1731, the youth was so 
unfortunate as to lose his mother. After her 
death his father gave up housekeeping, sold the 
furniture, and spent the money — took lodgings 
for himself and children with a widow, who had 
four of her own. His mother dead, his father 
continually at an ale-house, and himself among 
stangers, his life was forlorn indeed! He was 
almost without a home, nearly without clothes, 
and his cupboard, we need scarcely add, was 
scanty enough. At one time, he fasted from 
breakfast one day till noon the next, and then 
only dined upon flour and water boiled into a 
hasty-pudding. He was also afflicted with the 
hooping-cough and with boils. His master at the 



124 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

mill was very cruel to him; he made a severe 
wound in his back when beating him with a cane. 
It grew gradually worse. In a succeeding punish- 
ment the point of the cane struck the wound, 
which brought it into such a state that mortifica- 
tion was apprehended. His father was advised to 
bathe him, in Keddleston water. A cure was 
effected, but he continued to carry the scar. 
When his seven years' servitude at the silk mill 
had expired, it Avas necessary to think of some 
other trade. Hutton wished to be a gardener, 
but his father opposed this, and to save himself 
expense and trouble turned him over for another 
term of years to his brother, a stocking-maker at 
Nottingham. On being transferred from Derby 
to Nottingham, he did not find that his condition 
was much improved. His uncle acted hi a very 
friendly manner towards him, but his aunt was 
mean and sneaking, and grudged him every meal 
he ate. She kept a constant eye upon the food 
and the feeder. This curb galled his mouth to 
that degree, that he never afterwards ate at 
another's table without fear. He had also to work 
over-hours, early and late, to gain a trifle to clothe 
himself with ; but so little was he able to earn, 
that during even the severest part of the winter, 
he was obliged to be content with a light thin 
waistcoat, without a lining ; as foi a coat, he could 
not possibly get money enough to purchase one. 
On the 12th of July, 1741, the ill treatment he 
received from his uncle in the shape of a brutal 



) if:'/ ^\^iji0$"% "'"" » 




IITJTTON — THE BOOKSELLER. 
"He h«d only twopence in his pocket, a spacious world before him, .,.,1 no plan of operaiiou." 



HUTTOST, THE BOOKSELLEE. 125 

flogging, with a birch broom-handle of white 
hazel, which almost killed him, caused him to run 
away. He was then in his seventeenth year, and 
was badly dressed, nearly five feet high, and 
rather of Dutch make. He carried with him a 
long narrow bag of brown leather, that would 
hold about a bushel, in which was packed up a 
new suit of clothes ; also a white linen bag which 
would hold about half as much, containing a six- 
penny loaf of the coarsest bread ; a bit of butter 
wrapped in the leaves of an old copy book ; a new 
Bible worth three shillings ; one shirt ; a pair of 
stockings ; a sun-dial ; his best wig carefully 
folded and laid at the top, that by lying in the 
hollow of the bag it might not be crushed. The 
ends of these two bags being tied together, he 
flung them over his left shoulder, rather in the 
style of a cock-fighter. Being unable to put his 
hat into the bag, he hung it to the button of his 
coat. He had only twopence in his pocket, a 
spacious world before him, and no plan of opera- 
tion. He carried neither a light heart nor a light 
load ; and all that was light about him was the 
sun in the heavens and the money in his pocket. 
He steered his course to Derby, and near to that 
town he slept in a field. The next morning he 
arrived at Litchfield, and espying a barn in a field, 
he thought it would afford him a comfortable 
shelter ; on approaching it, however, and trying 
the door, he found it was locked. He then went 
in search of another lodging, leaving his bags be- 



126 MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 

hind him ; to his horror, on returning for them, 
he discovered that they had been stolen. Terror 
seized him, he roared after the rascal, but might 
as well have been silent, for thieves seldom come 
at call. Running, roaring, and lamenting about 
the fields and roads occupied some time. He was 
too deeply plunged in distress to find relief in 
tears. He described the bags and told the affair 
to all he met ; and from all he found pity or seem- 
ing pity, but redress from none. He saw his 
hearers dwindle away with the summer twilight, 
and by eleven o'clock he found himself in the open 
street, left to tell his mournful tale to the silent 
night. It is not easy to conceive a human being 
in a more forlorn situation. His finances were 
nothing ; he was a stranger to the world, and the 
world was a stranger to him ; no employment, 
nor likely to procure any; he had neither food to 
eat nor a place to rest ; all the little property he 
had upon earth had been taken from him ; nay, 
even hope, that last and constant friend of the 
unfortunate, well-nigh forsook him. In this miser- 
able state of destitution he sought repose upon 
a butcher's block. Next day he continued his 
way to Birmingham, and on arriving there he was 
much struck with the bustle and alacrity of the 
people. He little thought then, that in the course 
of nine years he should become a resident in it, 
and thirty-nine years afterwards its historian. 
Here he made various unsuccessful applications 
for work. At night he sat down to rest upon the 



127 

north side of the Old Cross, near Philip Street— 
the poorest of all the poor belonging to that great 
parish, of which, twenty-seven years afterwards, 
he became overseer. He sat under that roof a 
silent, oppressed object, where, thirty-one years 
afterwards, he sat to determine differences between 
man and man. He next day proceeded to Coven- 
try, where he slept at the Star Inn, not as a 
chamber guest, but a hay-loft one. Not being 
able to procure any work, he then steered his 
course to Derby ; and finally, it was arranged that 
he should return to Nottingham again, which he 
accordingly did. His wretched and unhappy 
ramble had damped his rising spirit — it sunk him 
in the eyes of his acquaintance, and he did not 
•recover his former balance for two years. It also 
ruined him in point of dress, for he was not able 
to re-assume his former appearance for a long time. 
Hutton took a fancy to music, and purchased a 
bell-harp. This was a source of pleasure during 
many years. For six months he used every effort 
that ingenuity could devise to bring something 
like a tune out of this instrument ; still his pro- 
gress was but slow. Like all others, however, 
who ever have succeeded in any art or pursuit, 
perseverance was his motto, and he kept the fol- 
lowing couplet in his memory : 

' 4 Despair of nothing that you would attain, 
Unwearied diligence your point will gain :" 

and the difficulties that he at first had to contend 
with soon vanished. 



128 'MEN WHO HAVE KISEN. 

As soon as his second apprenticeship was com- 
pleted, Hutton continued with his uncle as a jour- 
neyman, in which capacity he was able to save a 
little money. Having contracted a habit of read- 
ing what books came in his way, he was now 
enabled better to gratify this taste, by purchasing 
a few works. Among others he bought three 
volumes of the u Gentleman's Magazine," which, 
being in a tattered state, he contrived to bind. 
As the stocking trade was very bad, and would 
not support him, he contrived, with considerable 
difficulty, to learn the art of bookbinding, and 
after the most devoted attention to it, he managed 
to become pretty expert at it. In the year 1747 
he set out for London, with the intention of try- 
ing to gain his livelihood by his third trade. His 
sister Catherine raised for him three guineas, 
sewed them in his shirt collar, and he commenced 
his arduous journey on Monday morning, the 8th 
of April, at three o'clock. Not being used to 
walk, his feet were blistered with the first ten 
miles. He would not, however, succumb to the 
pain and fatigue he experienced, but continued to 
walk on until he had got over fifty-one miles. 
On the Wednesday evening he arrived in London, 
and took up his residence at an inn called the 
" Horns," in Smithfield. He remained in London 
a few days, but without being able to procure any 
work, and, as he was entirely friendless, he thought 
it the most prudent thing he could do to return 
to Nottingham. Pie then took a shop at Southr 



HIITTCXNj THE BOOKSELLER. 129 

well, which he stocked with a quantity of old 
books he had contrived to buy with his slender 
finances. As he only attended at Southwell on 
the market day, Saturday, he had to walk to that 
place through all sorts of weather; setting out 
about five o'clock in the morning, opening shop 
about ten, starving in it all day upon bread and 
cheese and half-a-pint of ale ; taking about one 
shilling and sixpence or two shillings, and then, 
trudging through the solitary night for five hours, 
he arrived at Nottingham, again. Thus for some 
time he continued to work at the stocking-frame 
during the first five days of the week, and to 
attend at Southwell on the Saturday ; and al- 
though he worked early and late, and practiced 
the most rigid economy, he could scarcely get his 
daily bread. Never despairing of success, he looked 
out for a shop in Birmingham, and removed to 
that town. He had arranged with a poor woman 
who resided at No. 6 Bull Street, for part of her 
small shop, agreeing to pay her one shilling a-week 
for the use of it. He was also, through the kind- 
ness of a clergyman, enabled to make a bettei 
show than he had hitherto done in point of stock. 
This gentleman had a quantity of old books, which 
he let Hutton have upon his signing a note to the 
effect that he would pay him when he was able. 

Hutton soon was able, and discharged the debt 
accordingly. " First creep and then go," is a 
popular remark. This seems to have been the 
maxim on which the subject of this memoir acted. 



130 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

He could not possibly have started in business 
with less means : we shall see how he contrived to 
get on. When he first opened his Birmingham 
shop, everything around him seemed gloomy and 
disheartening, but he managed to keep up his 
spirits, and practicing his usual rigid economy, he 
saved during the first year £20. By degrees his 
business increased, and he took larger premises. 

In the year 1755, Hutton married a young 
woman, with whom he had a dowry of £100, and, 
as he had saved £200 himself, he was placed in a 
situation to extend his business by adding to it the 
sale of paper. He had now gained a good foot- 
ing upon the road to wealth, and he followed 
it up with such ardor and industry, that the re- 
sults were splendid and triumphant. In 1772, 
Hutton was chosen one of the Commissioners of 
the Court of Requests, to the onerous and gratui- 
tous duties of which he devoted himself during a 
period of nineteen years. In the year 1776, he 
purchased a good deal of land, and as he kept 
adding to his acres, he became a very extensive 
landed proprietor in the course of a few years. 

We have, as yet, only noticed William Hutton 
as the poor, miserable, ill-treated, ill-fed, and ill- 
clad mill-boy, weaver, and bookseller, gradually 
making his way through all sorts of hardships, to 
competency and station. We have now to speak 
of him as an author. In the year 1780, at the 
age of fifty-seven, he published a " History of 
Birmingham," which has always been looked upon 



THE BOOKSELLER. 131 

as a standard book of the kind. He afterwards 
wrote and published the following works : " The 
Journey to London ; " " The History of Black- 
pool;" "The Battle of Bosworth Field, with a 
Life of Richard III., till he assumed the regal 
power ; » " The History of Derby; " " The Bar- 
bers, a poem;" " A History of the Roman Wall 
which crosses the island of Britain, from the Ger- 
man Ocean to the Irish Sea ; describing its ancient 
appearance and present state." For the purpose 
of producing a correct work on the last-named 
subject, Hutton, at the age of seventy-eight years, 
took a journey of six hundred miles on foot for 
the pur]30se of exploring the wall. In this jour- 
ney he was accompanied by his daughter Cathe- 
rine, who traveled on horseback. She says, in a 
letter written to one of her friends, " that such 
was the enthusiasm of her father with regard to 
the wall, that he turned neither to the right nor 
to the left, except to gratify me with a sight of 
Liverpool. Windermere he saw, and Ullswater 
he saw, because they lay under his feet, but noth- 
ing could detain him from his grand object. On 
our return," she continues, " walking through 
Ashton, a village in Lancashire, a dog flew at my 
father and bit his leg, making a wound about the 
size of sixpence. I found him sitting in the inn 
at Newton, where we had appointed to breakfast, 
deploring the accident and dreading its conse- 
quences. They were to be dreaded. The leg 
had got a hundred miles to walk in extreme hot 



132 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

weather. T comforted my father. c N*ow,' said 
I, 6 you will reap the fruit of your temperance. 
You have put no strong liquors or high sauces 
into your leg ; you eat but when you are hungry 
and drink but when you are thirsty, and this will 
enable your leg to carry you home.' The event 
showed I was right. When we had got within 
four days of our journey's end, I could no longer 
restrain my father. We made forced marches, 
and if we had had a little further to go the foot 
would fairly have knocked up the horse. The 
pace he went did not even fatigue his shoes. He 
walked the whole six hundred miles in one pair, 
and scarcely made a hole in his stockings." 

Up to the age of eighty-five, Hutton continued 
his career as an author. He still enjoyed at that 
great age the use of his faculties and health. He 
had now retired to his country seat and set up his 
carriage, enjoying himself in agricultural and in- 
tellectual pursuits. His last years were indeed 
all happiness and sunshine, if the morning of his 
life, as he observes, was gloomy and lowering. At 
the age of ninety, this exemplary man sunk into 
the arms of death from the exhaustion of old age. 

PASSAGES FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF WILLIAM 
HUTTON. 

1741. What the mind is bent upon obtaining, 
the hand seldom fails in accomplishing. I detested 
the frame, as totally unsuitable to my temper; 
therefore I produced no more profit than necessity 



HUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 133 

demanded. I made shift, however, with a little 
overwork and a little credit, to raise a genteel 
suit of clothes, fully adequate to the sphere in 
which I moved. The girls eyed me with some at- 
tention ; nay, I eyed myself as much as any of 
them. 

1743. At Whitsuntide I went to see my father, 
and was favorably received by my acquaintance. 
One of them played upon the bell-harp. I was 
charmed with the sound, and agreed for the price, 
when I could raise the sum, half a crown. 

At Michaelmas I went to Derby, to pay for and 
bring back my bell-harp, whose sound I thought 
seraphic. This opened a scene of pleasure which 
continued many years. Music was my daily study 
and delight. But perhaps I labored under greater 
difficulties than any one had done before me. I 
could not afford an instructor. I had no books, 
nor could I borrow or buy ; neither had I a friend 
to give me the least hint, or put my instrument in 
tune. 

Thus was I in the situation of a first inventor, 
left to grope in the dark to find something. I 
had first my ear to bring into tune, before I could 
tune the instrument ; for the ear is the foundation 
of all music. That is the best tune which best 
pleases the ear, and he keeps the best time who 
draws the most music from his tune. 

For six months did I use every effort to bring 
a tune out of an instrument which was so dread- 
fully out, it had no tune in it. Assiduity never 



134 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

forsooK me. I was encouraged by a couplet I had 
seen in Dyce's Spelling-book : 

" Despair of nothing that you would attain, 
Unwearied diligence your point will gain ! M 

When I was able to lay a foundation, the im- 
provement and the pleasure were progressive 
"Wishing to rise, I borrowed a dulcimer, made one 
by it, then learned to play upon it. But in the 
fabrication of this instrument, I had neither timber 
to work upon, tools to work with, nor money to 
purchase either. It is said, "Necessity is the 
mother of invention." I pulled a large trunk to 
pieces, one of the relics of my family, but formerly 
the property of Thomas Parker, the first Earl of 
Macclesfield ; and as to tools, I considered that 
the hammer-key and the plyers belonging to the 
stocking-frame, would supply the place of hammer 
and pincers. My pocket-knife was all the edge- 
tools I could raise ; a fork, with one limb, was 
made to act in the double capacity of spring-awl 
and gimlet. 

I quickly was master of this piece of music ; for 
if a man can play upon one instrument he can soon 
learn upon any. 

A young man, apprentice to a baker, happen- 
ing to see the dulcimer, asked if I could perform 
upon it. Struck with the sound, and with seeing 
me play with, what he thought great ease, he 
asked if I would part with the instrument, and at 
what price ? I answered in the affirmative, and, 
for sixteen shillings. He gave it. I told him, " If 



HUTTCXN", THE BOOKSELLER. 135 

he wanted advice, or his instrument wanted 
tuning, I would assist him." " O no ; there's not 
a doubt but I shall do." I bought a coat with the 
money, and constructed a better instrument. 

1746. An inclination for books began to ex- 
pand ; but here, as in music and dress, money was 
wanting. The first article of purchase was three 
volumes of the "Gentleman's Magazine," 1742, 
3, and 4. As I could not afford to pay for bind- 
ing, I fastened them together in a most cobbled 
style. These afforded me a treat. I could only 
raise books of small value, and these in worn-out 
bindings. I learned to patch, procured paste, 
varnish, &c, and brought them into tolerable 
order ; erected shelves, and arranged them in the 
best manner I was able. If I purchased shabby 
books, it is no wonder that I dealt with a shabby 
bookseller, who kept his working apparatus in his 
shop. It is no wonder, too, if by repeated visits 
I became acquainted with this shabby bookseller, 
and often saw him at work ; but it is a wonder 
and a fact, that I never saw him perform one act 
but I could perform it myself ; so strong was the 
desire to attain the art. I made no secret of my 
progress, and the bookseller rather encouraged 
me, and for two reasons : I bought such rubbish 
as nobody else would ; and he had often an 
opportunity o. selling me a cast-off tool for a 
shilling, not worth a penny. As I was below 
every degree of opposition, a rivalship was out of 
the question. The first book I bound was a very 



V66 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

small one — Shakspeare's " Venus and Adonis." I 
showed it to the bookseller. He seemed sur- 
prised. I could see jealousy in his eye. However, 
he recovered in a moment. He had no doubt but 
I should break. He offered me a worn-down 
press for two shillings, which no man could use, 
and which was laid by for the fire. I considered 
the nature of its construction, bought it, and paid 
the two shillings. I then asked him to favor me 
with a hammer and a pin, which lie brought with 
half a conquering smile and half a sneer. I drove 
out the garter-pin, which, being galled, prevented 
the press from working, and turned another square, 
which perfectly cured the press. He said in anger, 
" If I had known, you should not have had it." 
However, I could see he console! himself with 
the idea that all must return in the end. This 
proved for forty-two years my best binding press. 
I now purchased a tolerably genteel suit of clot lies, 
and was so careful of them, lest I should not be 
able to procure another, that they continued my 
best for five years. The stocking-frame being 
my own, the trade being dead, the hosiers would 
not employ me ; they could scarcely employ tlkir 
own frames. I was advised to try Leicester, and 
took with me half-a-dozen pair of stockings to 
sell. I visited several warehouses ; but, alas ! all 
proved blank. They would neither employ me, 
nor give for my goods anything near prime cost. 
As I stood like a culprit before a gentleman of 
the name of Bennet, I was so affected that I burst 



137 

into tears, to think that I should have served seven 
years to a trade at which I could not get bread* 
My sister took a house, and, to soften the rent, 
my brother and I lodged with her. 

1747. It had been the pride of my life, ever 
since pride commenced, to wear a watch. I 
bought a silver one for thirty-five shillings. It 
went ill. I kept it four years, then gave that and 
a guinea for another, which went as ill. I after- 
wards exchanged this for a brass one, which, 
going no better, I sold it for five shillings ; and, 
to complete the watch farce, I gave the five 
shillings away, and went without a watch thirty 
years. 

I had promised to visit my father on Whitsun 
eve, at Derby. Business detained me till it was 
eleven at night before I arrived. Expectation 
had for some time been on the stretch, and was 
now giving way. My father being elevated with 
liquor, and by my arrival, rose in ecstacy, and gave 
me the first kiss, and, I believe, the last, he ever 
gave me. 

This year I began to dip into rhyme. The 
stream was pleasant, though I doubt whether it 
flowed from Helicon. Many little pieces were the 
produce of my pen, which perhaps pleased ; how- 
ever, they gave no offence, for they slept on my 
shelf till the rioters burnt them in 1791. 

1748. Every soul who knew me scoffed at the 
idea of my bookbinding, except my sister, who 
encouraged and aided me ; otherwise I must have 



1 38 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN". 

sunk under it. I considered that I was naturally 
of a frugal temper ; that I could watch every 
penny ; live up a little ; that I hated stocking, 
making, but not bookbinding ; that if I continued 
at the frame, I was certain to be poor ; and if I 
ventured to leave it, I could not be so. My only 
fear was lest I should draw in my friends ; for I 
had nothing of my own. I had frequently heard 
that every man had, some time or other in his life, 
an opportunity of rising. As this was a received 
opinion, I would not contradict it. I had, however, 
watched many years for the high tide of my affairs, 
but thought it never yet had reached me. I still 
pursued the two trades. Hurt to see my three 
volumes of magazines in so degraded a state, I took 
them to pieces, and clothed them in a superior 
dress. 

1749. It was now time to look out for a future 
place of residence. A large town must be the 
mark, or there would be no room for exertion. 
London was thought of, between my sister and 
me, for I had no soul else to consult. This was 
rejected for two reasons. I could not venture into 
such a place without a capital, and my work was 
not likely to pass among a crowd of judges. My 
plan was to fix upon some market town, within a 
stage of Nottingham, and open shop there on the 
market day, till I should be better prepared to be- 
gin the world at Birmingham. 

I fixed upon Southwell as the first step of eleva- 
tion. It was fourteen miles distant, and tb^ town 



HTTTTOK, THE BOOKSELLER. 139 

as despicable as the road to it. I went over at 
Michaelmas, took a shop at the rate of twenty 
shillings a-year, sent a few boards for shelves, a 
few tools, and about two hundred weight of trashy 
which might be dignified with the name of books, 
and worth, perhaps, a year's rent of my shop. I 
was my own joiner, put up the shelves and their 
furniture, and in one day became the most eminent 
bookseller in the place. 

During this rainy winter, I set out at five every 
Saturday morning, carried a burden of from three 
pounds' weight to thirty, opened shop at ten, 
starved in it all day upon bread, cheese, and half, 
a-pint of ale, took from one to six shillings, shut 
up at four, and, by trudging through the solitary 
night and the deep roads five hours more, I 
arrived at Nottingham at nine, where I always 
found a mess of milk porridge by the fire, prepared 
by my valuable sister. Nothing short of a sur- 
prising resolution and rigid economy could have 
carried me through this scene. 

1750. Returning to Nottingham, I gave warn- 
ing to quit at Southwell, and prepared for a total 
change of life. 

On the 1 0th of April, I entered Birmingham for 
the third time, to try if I could be accommodated 
with a small shop. If I could procure any situa- 
tion, I should be in the way of procuring a better. 
On the 11th I traveled the streets of Birmingham, 
agreed with Mrs. Dix for the lesser half of her 
shop, No. 6 in Bull Street, at one shilling a-week ; 



140 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

and slept at Litchfield on my way back to Not- 
tingham. 

On May 13th, Mr. Rudsdall, a dissenting 
minister of Gainsborough, with whom my sister 
had lived as a servant, traveling from Nottingham 
to Stamford, requested my company, and offered 
to pay my expenses, and give me eighteen pence 
a day for my time. The afternoon was wet in the 
extreme. He asked why I did not bring my 
great-coat ? Shame forbade an answer, or I could 
have said I had none. The water completely 
soaked through my clothes, but, not being able 
to penetrate the skin, it filled my boots. Arriving 
at the inn, every traveler, I found, was wet ; and 
every one produced a change of apparel but me. 
I was left out because the house could produce no 
more. I was obliged to sit the whole evening in 
my drenched garments, and to put them on nearly 
as wet on my return the next morning ! What 
could I expect but destruction ? Fortunately I 
sustained no injury. 

It happened that Mr. Rudsdall now declined 
housekeeping, his wife being dead. He told my 
sister that he should part with the refuse of his 
library, and would sell it to me. She replied, 
" He has no money." " We will not differ about 
that. Let him come to Gainsborough ; he shall 
have the books at his own price." I walked to 
Gainsborough on the 15th of May, stayed there 
the 16th, and came back on the 17th. 

The books were about two hundred pounds' 



HUTTON, THE BOOKSELLER. 141 



weight. Mr. Rudsdall gave me his corn-chest for 
their deposit ; and for payment drew the following 
note, which I signed : " I promise to pay to Am- 
brose Rudsdall, one pound seven shillings, when I 
am able." Mr. Rudsdall observed, "You never 
need pay this note if you only say you are not 
able." The books made a better show, and were 
more valuable than all I possessed beside. 

I had now a most severe trial to undergo ; part- 
ing with my friends, and residing wholly among 
strangers. May 23d, I left Nottingham, and I 
arrived at Birmingham on the 25th. Having little 
to do but look into the street, it seemed singular 
to see thousands of faces pass, and not one that I 
knew. I had entered a new world, in which I led 
a melancholy life — a life of silence and tears. 
Though a young man, and of rather a cheerful 
turn, it was remarked "that I was never seen to 
smile." The rude family into which I was cast 
added to the load of melancholy. 

My brother came to see me about six weeks 
after my arrival, to whom I observed, that the 
trade had fully supported me. Five shillings 
a-week covered every expense — as food, rent, 
washing, lodging, &c. Thus a solitary year rolled 
round, when a few young men of elevated cha- 
racter and sense took notice of me. I had saved 
about twenty pounds, and was become more re- 
conciled to my situation. The first who took a 
fancy to me was Samuel Salte, a mercer's appren- 
tice, who, five years after, resided in London, 



142 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

where he acquired £100,000. He died in 1797. 
Our intimacy lasted his life. 

In this first opening of prosperity, an unfortun- 
ate circumstance occurred which gave me great 
uneasiness, as it threatened totally to eclipse the 
small prospect before me. The overseers, fearful 
I should become chargeable to the parish, exam- 
ined me with regard to my settlement ; and, with 
the voice of authority, ordered me to procure a 
certificate, or they would remove me. Terrified, 
I wrote to my father, who returned for answer, 
"That All Saints, in Derby, never granted certi- 
ficates." 

I was hunted by ill-nature two years. I re- 
peatedly offered to pay the levies, which was re- 
fused. A succeeding overseer, a draper, of whom 
I had purchased two suits of clothes, value £10, 
consented to take them. The scruple exhibited a 
short sight, a narrow principle, and the exultations 
of power over the defenceless. 

Among others who wished to serve me, I had 
two friends, Mr. Dowler, a surgeon, who resided 
opposite me, and Mr. Grace, a hosier at the Gate- 
way, in the High Street. Great consequences 
often arise from small things. The house adjoin- 
ing that of Mr. Grace's was to be let. My friends 
both urged me to take it. I was frightened at the 
rent, eight pounds. However, one drew, and the 
other pushed, till they placed me there. A small 
house is too large for a man without furniture, and 
a small rent may be too large for an income which 



143 

has nothing certain in it but the smallness. Hav- 
ing felt the extreme of poverty, I dreaded nothing 
so much ; but I believed I had seized the tide, and 
I was unwilling to stop. Here I pursued business 
in a more elevated style, and with more success. 

No event in a man's life is more consequential 
than marriage, nor is any more uncertain. Upon 
this die his sum of happiness depends. Pleasing 
views arise, which vanish as a cloud; because, 
like that, they have no foundation. Circum- 
stances change, and tempers with them. Let a 
man's prior judgment be ever so sound, he cannot 
foresee a change ; therefore he is liable to deception. 
I was deceived myself, but, thanks to my kind fate, 
it was on the right side. I found in my wife more 
than I ever expected to find in woman. Just in 
proportion as I loved her, I must regret her loss. 
If my father, with whom I only lived fourteen 
years, who loved me less, and has been gone forty, 
never is a day out of my thoughts, what must be 
my thoughts towards her, who loved me as her- 
self, and with whom I resided an age ! 

1756. My dear wife brought me a little daugh- 
ter, who has been the pleasure of my life to this 
day. We had now a delightful plaything for both. 

Robert Bage, an old and intimate friend, and a 
paper-maker, took me to his inn, where we spent 
the evening. He proposed that I should sell paper 
for him, which I might either buy on my own ac- 
count, or sell on his by commission. As I could 
spare one or two hundred pounds, I chose to pur- 



144: MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

chase ; therefore appropriated a room for the re- 
ception of goods, and hung out a sign — The Paper 
Warehouse. From this small hint I followed the 
stroke forty years, and acquired an ample fortune. 

1763. We took several pleasurable journeys; 
among others, one at Aston, and in a superior 
style to what we had done before. This is the 
peculiar privilege of us Birmingham men : if ever 
we acquire five pounds extraordinary, we take care 
to show it. 

1764. Every man has his hobby-horse, and it is 
no disgrace prudently to ride him. He is the pru- 
dent man who can introduce cheap pleasures with- 
out impeding business. About ten of us, intimate 
friends, amused ourselves with playing at tennis. 
Entertained with the diversion, we erected a tennis- 
court, and met on fine evenings for amusement, 
without expense. I was constituted steward of our 
little fraternity. My family continued their jour- 
neys, and were in a prosperous state. 



FKANKLIN, THE NAYIGATOK. 

Sir John Franklin was born in the year 1 786, 
of a respectable family in Lincolnshire, England, 
possessed for several centuries of an estate and 
position which very probably gave them their 
name originally. The father of Sir John was com- 
pelled to part with the patrimonial estate, and 
sent his children into active life, upon very slender 
means, and without interest with which to work 
their way to distinction. 

John, the youngest of four sons, was destined by 
his father for the Church, or for agricultural pur- 
suits ; but he showed so strong a predilection for 
the sea,, that he was allowed to have his way, and 
entered the navy on the 1st of October, 1800, at 
the age of fourteen, on board the Polyphemus, 
sixty-four gun-ship. He was present at the 
action off Copenhagen in 1801. Immediately 
afterwards, one phase of his career of exploration 
commenced. He was one of the party in the In- 
vestigator under his relative Captain Flinders, and 
10 



146 MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 

though only a young midshipman, was personally 
associated with his Commander in all his explora- 
tions and survey of the coasts of Australia, and 
suffered shipwreck with him in Torres Straits, 
near Cato Bank, in August, 1803. A worthy 
beginning it was for that adventurous career, self- 
adopted, and nobly carried out in after days. The 
Earl Camden, an East Indiaman, conveyed Frank- 
lin home, and he distinguished himself highly even 
on this incidental passage, aiding in the repulse of 
the French squadron under Linois. Bonaparte was 
then contesting the seas most futilely. 

As signal-midshipman in the Bellerophon, Frank- 
lin was present at Trafalgar, on the 21st of Octo- 
ber, 1805 ; and during the succeeding years, rising 
to the rank of lieutenant, he served at Flushing, 
and afterwards at New Orleans (1814). Daring 
the engagements at the latter place, he command- 
ed some of the boats of the British squadron 
which captured the strong gun-boats of the Amer- 
icans, after a hard struggle and severe losses. The 
attempted siege ended unhappily for the British ; 
to Franklin, however, the campaign brought a 
more solid reward, in the shape of a strong recom- 
mendation for immediate promotion. He had, 
indeed, not only proved his merits professionally, 
but he had shown himself to be a man of ready 
resources in all departments of action. He had, 
in short, given an indication of those general and 
superior abilities which afterwards came more fully 
to light during his arctic explorations. 



FEANEXIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 147 

Franklin, after serving in the interval as first 
lieutenant of the Fourth, at length made his debut 
in the field of Northern Discovery in 1818. At 
this period, Captain David Buchan, of the Doro- 
thea, 370 tons, had been instructed to attempt 
(as Parry did afterwards) a direct northern passage, 
that is, to and through the very centre of the 
polar circle ; and Franklin, his chosen colleague, 
was nominated to the command of the Trent, a 
hired vessel of 250 tons. The enterprising navi- 
gators set sail in the spring of the year mentioned 
and made for Spitzbergen. On arriving thjre 
they endeavored several times to pass north- 
wards, but could not get beyond latitude 80 deg. 
15 min., where they were locked up for three 
weeks in the ice. They tried the east coast of 
Greenland on being released, but were again 
baffled by the ice. It gave worthy occasion to try 
the patience and courage of Franklin, the dangers 
undergone being inconceivably great. Buchan 
and his colleague arrived in England in October, 
1818, Franklin having vainly sought permission 
from his commanding officer to prosecute the voy- 
age alone ; a request very naturally denied him, 
on account of the injury which the vessels had re- 
ceived. 

The eyes of the British Government, as well as 
of all interested in arctic discovery, were now 
fixed on Lieutenant Franklin, as a man possessed 
of every leading quality requisite for conducting 
these honorable and perilous northern explora- 



148 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

tions. In 1819, accordingly, lie was selected for 
the great enterprise of descending the Copper- 
mine River, which, like Mackenzie River, carries 
a portion of the waters of Arctic North America 
into the Polar Ocean, and the course of which 
had never before been specially investigated. 
The mouth of the Coppermine once reached, 
Franklin was directed to make his way along the 
vast and yet almost unknown line of coast to the 
westward, that is, towards Behring's Straits. This 
task, involving a guideless peregrination of im- 
mense length, and in a clime of surpassing severity, 
was certainly one of the most formidable that 
could be undertaken by man ; but with his admi- 
rable coadjutors, Lieutenants Back and Hood and 
Dr. Richardson, Franklin manfully girded up his 
loins for the adventure. On the 23 d of May, 1819, 
he set sail in a ship belonging to the Hudson's 
Bay Company, and, after narrowly escaping ship- 
wreck, crossed Hudson's Bay safely, and arrived 
at York Factory on its western shores. Here a 
strong boat was built for the party, and, on the 
9th of September, they began to ascend Hayes 
River, on their inland route to the Coppermine. 
Seven hundred miles of riv ar transit were accom- 
plished by them at this period, a feat rendered 
alike difficult and perilous by falls, rapids, swamps, 
and countless other obstacles. A valuable chart 
resulted from this part of the journey. Reaching 
Cumberland House, a station on Pine Island Lake, 
on the close of October, the setting in of the ice 



FRANEXIK, THE NAVIGATOR. 149 

compelled Franklin to pause till January, when, 
accompanied by Back, and a faithful seaman 
named Hepburn (to whose fidelity and hardihood 
the whole party afterwards owned themselves to 
have been more than once indebted for their lives), 
the commander moved westwards for another 
eight hundred and fifty miles, and reached Fort 
Chipewyan on the 20th March. Another impor- 
tant inland <?hart was the product of this excursion. 
The station of Fort Chipewyan is situated on the 
Lake Athabasca, into which Slave River flows 
from the Great Slave Lake. The locality lies 
towards the centre of Arctic America, or about 
latitude 110 deg., and was reached by Franklin 
chiefly by the aid of dogs and sledges. Many 
interesting observations were made about this 
period by Franklin, Back, Hood, and Richardson, 
on the Cree, Chipewyan, and Stone Indians, and 
on the native features and productions of the 
country generally; while Lieutenant Hood also 
indefatigably pursued a course of meteorogicai 
and other scientific inquiries. But attention must 
be confined here mainly to the contributions of 
Franklin to geognostic science. 

All this while Franklin was drawing near to 
the upper part of the course of the Coppermine, 
and, being joined at Fort Chipewyan in July by 
Richardson and Hood, he entertained strong 
hopes of wintering at the mouth of the river men- 
tioned, the grand object of his enterprise. Hav- 
ing obtained three canoes and various supplies of 



150 MEN WHO HATE RISEN*. 

food and ammunition, the whole party started 
briskly for the north, along Slave River. Six 
Englishmen (Mr. Wentzel of the Fur Company 
having joined the corps), seventeen hired Canadian 
voyageurs (all French or half-breeds), and three 
interpreters, constituted, at this period, the expe- 
dition ; and a considerable number of Indians, 
also, were engaged as guides and hunters, under 
the leadership of a chief named Akaitcho. All 
went well for a time ; deer were shot plentifully ; 
but as the party moved northwards the hardships 
of the route grew severe, and food more scarce. 
All that Franklin could accomplish that season 
was merely to behold the Coppermine River. 
Fain would he have borne all risks, and attempted 
its descent, but Akaitcho told him that he would 
do so only to perish. " I will send some of my 
young men with you if you persist in advancing, 
but from the moment that they embark in your 
canoes I and my relatives shall lament them as 
dead." The English commander was therefore 
compelled to settle in winter quarters, which he 
did at a place termed Fort Enterprise, near the 
head of the Coppermine, and distant five hundred 
and fifty miles from Fort Chipewyan. The ad- 
venturers had now advanced about one thousand 
five hundred and twenty miles, in the course of 
1820, into the heart of these obscure and perilous 
regions. 

As strong a winter-house of wood being erected 
as possible, the party passed their time for some 



FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 151 

months mainly in shooting and fishing. But, 
though the reindeer were pretty numerous, and 
nearly two hundred fell before the hunters, the 
influx of famished Indians to the station greatly 
lessened the stores and curtailed the provisions. 
The ordinary condition of the poor native people 
may be guessed from their own words. Some- 
times they generously gave the whole of their 
own game to the strangers, saying, " We are used 
to starvation, you are not." At this time fresh 
supplies of amunition and other articles were 
indispensable to the progress of the enterprise, 
and Back undertook a foot journey to Fort Chip- 
ewyan to procure what was requisite. Perhaps 
his passage of the intervening five hundred miles, 
in the midst of an arctic winter, when noon is 
almost midnight, formed one of the most severe 
trials of this whole journey. At a distance of a 
few feet from the house fires, the thermometer 
stood at fifteen below zero, and we may thus con- 
jecture what Back had to endure while camping 
nightly out of doors. He and his comrades were 
even exposed to painful changes of temperature, 
causing a French-Canadian to say, " It is terrible, 
to be frozen and sun-burnt in one day." The 
heavy snow-shoes, too, galled their feet and ankles, 
till they bled profusely. Nevertheless, Back man- 
aged to return safely to Fort Enterprise, with 
four sledges laden with needful goods and supplies. 
Others followed, and still more were promised for 
prospective necessities. 



152 MEN WHO HATE EISEN. 

In the beginning of July, 1821, the party ap- 
proached and began to descend the Coppermine 
River, two frail canoes being their sole means oi 
conveyance. At the outset, Akaitcho and his In- 
dians accompanied them, and, by hunting on 
shore, kept up a decent supply of food. After a 
painful route of three hundred and thirty-four 
miles, one hundred and seventeen of which were 
accomplished by dragging the canoes over land, 
Franklin at length found himself (19th July) on 
the shores of the great Northern Ocean. The 
Indians had now gone back, partly alarmed by a 
meeting with a small Esquimaux party, their 
enemies. Provisions now ran low with the expe- 
dition, and the Canadian voyageurs expressed 
great fears at embarking on an unknown sea in 
frail bark canoes. But, after having made all pos- 
sible preparations (through the returning Indians 
and Mr. Wentzel) for obtaining food at different 
land stations on the way back, Franklin boldly 
launched on the polar main, and moved west- 
wards, or in the direction of Behring's Straits. 
It is unnecessary to dwell on the toils and dangers 
of the subsequent sea voyage. They advanced only 
six degrees and a half along the coast, in a direct 
line, though bays, and gulfs, and islands lengthened 
their actual route to six hundred and fifty miles. 
Necessities of all kinds at length began to press 
upon the party, and compelled Franklin to turn 
back. He resolved to make his way to Fort 
Enterprise by a river which had been passed on 



153 

his advance, and which he had called Hood's 
River, but the expedition had only ascended this 
stream for a few miles, when they were completely 
stopped by a magnificent cataract; and they then 
set to work to make two new and small portable 
canoes, with which they might proceed inland, 
taking to the waters when they found it practi- 
cable, or crossing them when necessary. They 
counted their direct distance from Fort Enter- 
prise to be no more than one hundred and forty 
miles, and all were in high spirits at the thoughts 
of rest there and good food. This journey, how- 
ever trifling seemingly to what they had before 
performed, was destined to be a terrible and fatal 
one. It was commenced early in the month of 
September, and during the first few miles they 
were ominously met by a snow-storm, which ab- 
solutely drove them to hide under their blankets 
for two entire days. Their preserved meat failed 
them, and they had no resource, when they re- 
sumed their path, save to eat tripe-de-roche, a sort of 
lichen or moss found on the rocks. The deer rarely 
appeared in their way, and still more rarely could 
they kill them when seen. All the band began 
to feel the horrors of starvation, and to sink under 
the clime. Their bodies became miserably ema- 
ciated, and a mile or two formed a heavy days' 
journey. The Canadians grew unmanageable 
through despair, and at length both canoes were 
lost, or rather willfully destroyed, the men refusing 
to drag them along. The consequences of this 



154: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN". 

conduct of the Canadians, against which Franklin 
remonstrated in vain, became too plainly apparent 
when they did finally reach the Coppermine. 
For eight days the famished band stood shivering 
on the banks of the river, unable to get across, 
though its width was but one hundred and thirty 
yards. The brave Richardson finally offered to 
swim over with a line, which might have got a 
raft across, but, after going half way, he sank, and 
had to be pulled back, nearly dead. At last, a 
sort of wicker boat, lined with painted cloth, took 
them all safely over the stream; but, in their 
wretched condition of body, supported by almost 
nothing save tripe-de-roche (which could scarcely 
be called nutriment, and injured many of the 
eaters), they could only advance by inches, as it 
were, though Fort Enterprise was now within forty 
or fifty miles of them in a direct line. Snows and 
rains fell upon them incessantly ; they had stream 
after stream to cross ; and fuel often failed as well 
as food. Two of the men dropped behind, sinking 
on the ground, benumbed with cold, and incapable 
of motion. Dr. Richardson and Hood, with Hep- 
burn, resolved, for the sake of these men, to encamp 
for a time, and allow Franklin with the rest to go 
forward, in the hope of procuring aid at Fort En- 
terprise from the Indians. The adventures 01 
Richardson at this encampment are thrillingly in- 
teresting. The two men who had fallen behind 
perished, but the doctor and his friends were 
joined by one of the vovageurs, who had fallen 



FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 155 

back, finding himself (as he said) unable to go on 
with Franklin. This individual, an Iroquois or 
half breed voyageur, named Michel, grew strong, 
comparatively, and was able to hunt. He brought 
to the tent pieces of flesh, which he said had been 
part of a wolf killed by a deer's horn. Later cir- 
cumstances led Dr. Richardson to the conclusion, 
however, that this flesh was actually part of the 
bodies of the two stragglers, found by Michel in 
the snow, and possibly found not yet dead. Michel 
became gloomy and sullen, awakening the suspi- 
cions of his companions, and adding fresh horrors 
to their already horrible situation. He watched 
the Doctor and Hepburn so closely that they could 
not speak a word to one another, while poor Hood 
lay in the tent incapable of motion, and seemingly 
near his end. At length, on the 20th of October, 
when the Doctor and Hepburn were severally 
employed out of doors, a shot was heard in the 
tent, and there they found Hood killed by a ball 
through the head. Michel, who was about him at 
the time, declared that he must have slain himself, 
or the gun must have gone off accidentally ; but 
Richardson saw clearly that the shot had certainly 
been fired from behind, close to the head. Not- 
withstanding his assertions as to the cause, Michel 
could not refrain from betraying guilt by con- 
tinually exclaiming, " You do not suppose that I 
murdered him ! " Indeed, he was not assailed by 
any such charges. His companions, than whom, 
perhaps, two men were never more unhappily 



156 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

placed, dared not utter a word on the subject, as 
Michel had strength enough to have overpowered 
them both openly, and with ease. That he would 
do so at the first opportunity — that he would 
never return to Fort Enterprise with them — they 
now also felt as a thing indubitable. By a great 
and memorable exertion of moral courage, Dr 
Richardson saved himself and his friend Hepburn 
from the fate impending over them. On the third 
day after the murder of Hood, the three compan- 
ions set out for Fort Enterprise, and on the way 
Michel, staying behind under the plea of gathering 
some tripe-de-roche, allowed the two Englishmen 
to speak alone for the first time. Their mutual 
sense of being doomed to almost instant death 
proved so strong as at once to determine Richard- 
son on his course. On Michel coming up, the 
doctor put a pistol to the head of the wretch and 
shot him dead on the spot. The Iroquois had 
loaded his gun, but had gathered no tripe-de-roche. 
It is scarcely possible to doubt that but for this 
terrible step, Richardson and Hepburn would both 
have been sacrificed, and most probably on that 
very day. Michel durst not permit them to go 
alive to the Fort, to tell their sad and accusing 
tale. 

On the 11th of November, Franklin had reached 
Fort Enterprise with five companions, but their 
joy at reaching its shelter was sadly damped by 
the desolation of the place, and by the want of 
food. It was found from a note that the unwearied 



FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 157 

Back (who had moved on in advance) had been 
there, but, seeing the condition of matters, he had 
instantly set off in search of the Indians, to pro- 
cure supplies against the arrival of his famished 
associates. With this hope before them, the party 
of Franklin set to grubbing for bones to pound 
and make soup of. On this diet and tripe-de-roche 
they lingered out their existence (with one or two 
exceptions) till Richardson and Hepburn came up, 
on the 6th November, only to bring starvation 
into the midst of starvation. The skeleton figures, 
the ghastly faces, and the sepulchral voices of the 
adventurers, prognosticated, indeed, a speedy end 
to all as regarded this world, when the arrival of 
the Indians (7th November), sent by Back, 
snatched them from the grasp of the grave. On 
the 15th December they were strong enough to 
start on their journey^eastward, and, being joined 
by Back and his party, they safely reached the 
Hudson's Bay Company's stations early in the 
summer of 1822. From these stations Franklin 
and his friends had an easy passage, where they 
arrived after having journeyed by water and by 
land (including the navigation of the Polar Sea), 
the immense distance in all of five thousand five 
hundred and fifty miles. 

Though the grand point of traversing the arctic 
shores of North America, from the mouth of the 
Coppermine River to Behring's Straits, had not 
been fully accomplished, Franklin, in addition to 
the new information collected by him relative to 



158 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

the interior, had also at least rendered it extremely 
probable that the continent presents to the Polar 
Ocean a direct and pretty regular line of coast the 
whole way west of the Coppermine. But Frank- 
lin, nothing daunted by his past sufferings, was 
determined to have the honor of clearing up the 
matter fully, knowing that, by tracing the shores 
in the direction of his former enterprise, he would 
acquire the merit of narrowing the north-west 
passage question to the mere discovery of an inlet 
to the Arctic Sea on the Eastern shores of North 
America, either through Hudson's Bay or Baffin's 
Bay, or their various channels, straits and sounds. 
He therefore proposed to the British Government 
to undertake an overland journey to the mouth of 
Mackenzie River, by which plan he would shorten 
his course along the coast to Behring's Straits, 
being satisfied of the continuity of the land from 
the Coppermine westward to the Mackenzie. The 
British Government embraced the gallant offer of 
Franklin, and the latter, now captain, was fortu- 
nate enough to obtain anew the company of 
Richardson and Back, his well-tried friends. Re- 
collecting the previous difficulties in regard to 
boats, he had three constructed at Woolwich, the 
materials being mahogany with ash timbers ; while 
he also prepared a portable one, only eighty-five 
pounds in weight, and of which the substance was 
ash, fastened plank to plank with thongs, and 
covered with Mackintosh cloth. All was ready 
in the beginning of 1825, and the expedition sailed 



FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 159 

from Liverpool on the 16th of February. It 
reached New York on the 15th of March. Their 
further progress northwards affords nothing 01 
novel interest, until they reached the Great Bear 
Lake, at the head of Mackenzie river— so called 
from Sir Alexander Mackenzie, who descended it 
in 1789, and who lived to give Franklin the bene- 
fit of his friendly counsels on the occasion of his 
first journey. When Captain Franklin arrived at 
Great Bear Lake, he set a party to work on a 
winter residence, and, eager to advance the objects 
of his expedition, proceeded in person with a few 
companions down the Mackenzie to look at the 
Polar Sea in that region, and prepare for its navi- 
gation. 

Franklin and his party reached the north-eastern 
entrance on the 14th August, in latitude 69 deg. 
44 min., longitude 135 deg. 57 min., and rejoiced 
at the sea-like appearance to the north. Observ- 
ing an island in the distance, the boat's head was 
directed towards it, and, hastening to its most 
elevated part, the prospect was highly gratifying. 
The Rocky Mountains were seen from S. W. to 
W. 1-2 N., while to the north the sea appeared in 
all its majesty, with many seals and whales sport- 
ing in its waves. On the 5th September they re- 
turned to their winter quarters on the Great Bear 
River, which now presented a lively, bustling 
scene, from the preparations necessary to be made 
for passing eight or nine months in what was ap- 
propriately called Fort Franklin. With full em- 



160 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

ployment for every one, the time passed away very 
cheerfully. On Christmas-day sixty human beings 
assembled in the little hall to do honor to the 
usual festivities — Englishmen, Highlanders, Cana- 
dians, Esquimaux, Chipewyans, Dogribs, Hare 
Indians, Cree women and children, all talking at 
one time in their different languages, and all 
mingling together in perfect harmony. 

On Tuesday, the 28th June, 1856, the whole 
company re-embarked in the boats, on the Mac- 
kenzie, and proceeded on their voyage down that 
river until the 3d July, when, on arriving at the 
point where the river branches off into several 
channels, the separation into two parties took 
place — Captain Franklin and Back with two boats 
(one of which had been built at the fort) and four- 
teen men, including Augustus, a faithful interpreter 
of the former journey, were to proceed to the 
westward ; while Dr. Richardson and Lieutenant 
Kendall, in the other two, were to proceed with 
ten men to the eastward as far as the Coppermine. 
We shall, however, first follow Captain Franklin 
and his party. 

On the 7th he arrived at the mouth of the 
Mackenzie, where he fell in with a very large party 
of Esquimaux, whose conduct was at first very vio- 
lent, but by great command of tenrper, and some 
conciliation, they were at length brought to restore 
the articles pillaged from the boats. Captain Frank- 
lin, however, speedily discovered that all their pro- 
testations of regret were false, and nothing but 



THE NAVIGATOR. 161 

the greatest vigilance on his part saved the party 
from a general massacre. On the 13th his pro- 
gress towards Behring's Straits was arrested by a 
compact body of ice stretching from the shore to 
seaward; and on landing for shelter from a heavy 
gale, another party of Esquimaux was met with. 
On the loth, having passed this barrier, they 
arrived off Babbage's River, but again were they 
involved in an icy labyrinth, which, added to the 
dense fogs here found in the highest degree of per- 
fection, owing to the barrier opposed to their pro- 
gress south by the Rocky Chain, made it torment- 
ingly slow. A month — one the most favorable 
for arctic exploration — had passed in this manner, 
while only 10 deg. (three hundred and seventy- 
four miles) of west longitude had been attained, 
and another 10 deg. still lay between them and 
Icy Cape. Thus situated, and ignorant that a 
hundred and fifty miles further west a boat was 
awaiting him from the Blossom, which had been 
sent to Behring's Straits, under Captain Beechey, 
Captain Franklin justly came to the conclusion 
that they had reached a point, beyond which per 
severance would have been rashness, and their 
best efforts fruitless. On the 18th August they, 
therefore, set out on their return, giving to their 
extreme point, in latitude 70 deg. 24. min. north, 
longitude 149 deg. 37 min. west, the name of Re- 
turn Reef; and, with the exception of a violent storm 
near Herschel Island, reached Fort Franklin on the 
21st September, without any mateiial danger. 
11 



162 MEST WHO HAVE EISEN. 

By Captain Beechey, in the meantime, an im- 
portant addition had been made to our knowledge 
of the arctic shores of North America. Franklin 
had made it clear that from longitude 115 des*. to 
149 deg. west, or from Coppermine River to Re- 
turn Reef, these shores were open and navigable ; 
and Beechey had advanced a considerable way 
eastward from Behring's Straits, till checked by 
ice. Having been instructed to avoid being shut 
up, he sent forward his barge under Mr. Elson, 
who examined the coast up to a point only 
one hundred and fifty miles from Return Reef. 
These were great accessions to geognostic science 
and, as before remarked, necessarily narrowed 
materially the question of a north-west pas- 
sage. 

Being joined by Dr. Richardson, who with his 
party had made valuable and extended observa- 
tions on the Coppermine River, as well as on its 
Esquimaux and Indian tribes, and the native pro- 
ductions of the country, Franklin and his friends 
returned once more to Britain in September, 1827, 
to enjoy their well-won repute. Not only his own 
land but Europe generally recognized the high 
deserts of Franklin. The Geographical Society 
of Paris presented him, immediately on his return 
home r with a valuable gold medal, thereby stamp- 
ing him as the greatest geographical discoverer of 
the year preceding. On the 29th April, 1829, he 
received the honor of knighthood, and, shortly 
afterwards, the degree of a D.C.L. from the Uni- 



FRANKLIN, THE NAVIGATOR. 163 

versity of Oxford. In 1830, Sir John was em- 
ployed, in his naval capacity simply, to command 
the Rainbow on the Mediterranean station, and 
for his exertions while there in furthering the 
interests and quieting the troubles of Greece, he 
was decorated with the order of the Redeemer of 
Greece. 

The next prominent post held by Sir John 
Franklin was that of Lieutenant-Governor of 
Tasmania or Van Diemen's Land, his appointment 
to which took place in 1836. On this occasion 
he was created a knight of the Guelphic or 
Hanoverian Order. He held his governorship 
nearly up to his entrance on his last explora- 
tions. 

Having done so much to clear up the mysteries 
of the northern shores of the New World, it is no 
wonder that on a new voyage in search of a north- 
west passage being resolved upon by the Admi- 
ralty, Sir John Franklin should have been selected 
for the task. Nor need we be surprised that he, 
though now in the sixtieth year, should have ac- 
cepted it. Satisfied of the existence of a great 
navigable sea to the west, he could scarcely fail to 
entertain the hope of penetrating to it at some 
point or another, and thus winning the laurel so 
long struggled for by himself, and by so many 
able rivals. Danger, and perhaps death, he knew 
lay in the way, but beyond shone the inviting 
crown of deathless celebrity. Two ships were 
placed under the command of Sir John Franklin 



164 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

for this fresh service in the Polar Seas, namely, 
the Erebus and Terror, both of which were fitted 
with small steam-engines and propellers. Captain 
Crozier, who had been Parry's lieutenant in the 
Hecla, was nominated to the command of the 
Terror. The directions of the Admiralty were, 
generally, that Sir John should enter Lancaster 
Sound through Baffin's Bay, and, descending south- 
westwards, into the water-way discovered by him- 
self along the northern shore of the American con- 
tinent, seek an opening into the western Polar 
Ocean. He set sail on the 26th May, 1845, and 
was last seen, by a whaler, in Baffin's Bay, on 
the 26th July, at which time he was moored to an 
iceberg, and waiting impatiently till the ice 
would allow him to enter Lancaster Sound. 

Since that period neither Sir John Franklin 
nor any of his gallant company has been discov- 
erable. After three years had passed, public 
as well as private anxiety was awakened on be- 
half of the absent ships, and during successive 
years it was kept alive by continual attempts to 
ascertain the proceedings and fate of the expedi 
tion. A visit to Beechey Island, in Barrow Strait, 
by one of these searching vessels, disclosed the 
fullest evidence that the Erebus and Terror had 
passed there the winter of 1845-6, the first or 
their absence. Three deaths had occurred among 
the crews, but there were indisputable signs of 
the prosperous condition of the expedition, and of 
the fulfillment of some of the scientific pursuits to 



165 

which it was devoted. The search made subse- 
quently to this important discovery, unfortunately 
took a wrong direction, with the single exception 
of that of a vessel (the Prince Albert) sent out by 
Lady Franklin, whose instructions pointed to the 
precise locality where, as is now known, the Erebus 
and Terror must have been finally arrested. 

It was in 1854 that the next, and, as yet, latest, 
tidings were received. Dr. Rae, who was en- 
gaged upon a geographical exploration in the 
Hudson Bay Company's territory, accidentally 
received information that a party from the missing 
expedition had landed upon the coast at the mouth 
of the Back or Fish River ; and he brought home 
many indisputable relics, given him by the Esqui- 
maux, which proved the vicinity of the Erebus 
and Terror. A boat party was sent in the follow- 
ing year to the spot indicated to Dr. Rae by the 
Esquimaux, and it was proved that an escaping 
party had reached it, and ascended the Fish 
River ; traces of their progress being found higher 
up, but no signs of their having perished there. 
Thus the actual fate of these martyrs to science is 
yet undecided — nay, though hope may well have 
died out, it cannot be positively affirmed that 
some may not be still alive, sharing, possibly, the 
miserable existence of the Esquimaux upon the 
coast. It is well known that the task of clearing 
up this fearful mystery has been accepted by the 
devoted wife of Franklin, and that in 1857, another 
expedition (the fourth we believe, which has been 



166 MEN WHO HAVE BISECT. 

mainly or wholly furnished by her funds), small, 
but admirably equipped and organised, started 
under the command of Captain M'Clintock, an 
officer who has distinguished himself in each of the 
searching expeditions sent out by the Government. 
One closing word may be added. Many 
persons are apt to ask, "What good end the 
discovery of a north-west passage will serve ? " 
They give force to their question, by assuming it 
as undeniable, that the passage, even if fully made 
out by a ship sailing through could never be used 
for trading purposes, or any others truly beneficial. 
It must be allowed that science (and not commerce) 
is more deeply, or at least directly, interested in 
the arctic exploration. Yet let not the merchant, 
who sends out his ships to bring him gain from the 
four quarters of the globe, imagine that, as being 
a scientific question chiefly, the exploring of the 
Arctic Circle is a matter in which he has no posi- 
tive concern. The safe voyaging of his vessels 
hangs upon the compass — the mysterious root of 
whose power and utility lies in the heart of the 
boreal regions. Let the merchant consider what 
would be the chances of safety to his barks 
without that instrument, and not undervalue those 
labors of science which have done so much for 
him before, and which have even now his final 
good in view, did the settlement of the magnetic 
pole form their whole and sole object. Let the 
practical man of business also reflect, that to the 
north-west passage question we owe the discovery 



167 

of the New World. Columbus sailed simply to 
and a western route to the Indies ; the Americas 
only fell in his way by mere accident, or at least 
unexpectedly. Let any one who scouts northern 
exploration as useless, meditate on this one grand 
fact, and be silent. On the further general and 
scientific points connected with the subject it is 
needless to enter. They are numerous, and in- 
volve the welfare of our kind deeply. 



OBERLIN THE PASTOR 

The Ban de la Roche derives its name from the 
neighboring castle of La Roche. The Germans 
call the Ban " Steinthal," or the valley of stone. 
Formerly it was part of the province of Alsace, 
in the north-east of France, and is situated on the 
western slope of the Champ de Feu, an isolated 
range of mountains of volcanic origin — as the 
name implies — separated by a deep valley from 
the eastern chain of the Vosges. The Ban con- 
tains only two parishes — one called Rothau ; the 
other comprises the hamlets of Waldbach, Zolbach, 
Belmont, Bellefosse, and Foudai. Waldbach, 
which lies nearly in the centre of these hamlets, 
is about eighteen hundred feet above the level of 
the sea ; and four hundred feet below Waldbach, 
on the mountain-side, stands Rothau. The two 
parishes contain about nine thousand acres, the 
sterility of which may be judged from the fact, 
that little more than fifteen hundred are capable 
of cultivation. Wave after wave of persecution 



OBERLItf, THE PASTOR. 169 

broke upon them during the thirty years' war and 
the reign of Louis XIV., which so desolated the 
Ban as to render it almost incapable of affording 
sustenance to any human being. Nevertheless, 
about eighty qr a hundred families, destitute 01 
all the necessaries of civilized life, and shut out 
from intercourse with the inhabitants of the neigh- 
boring districts, in consequence of the want of 
roads, here continued to drag on a most wretched 
and miserable existence. At length the province 
of Alsace was united to France — an union which 
brought no change to the moral or physical condi- 
tion of the poor dwellers in the " valley of stone." 
About the year 1750, a devout and earnest clergy- 
man, moved by their wretched state, undertook 
the charge of the Ban. His name was Stouber. 
Desirous of knowing what was the state of educa- 
tion in the district, he inquired for the principal 
school. To his astonishment he was conducted to 
a miserable hovel, in one corner of which lay a 
helpless old man on a truckle bed, and around 
him were grouped a crowd of ill-clad, noisy, wild- 
looking children. 

" Are you the schoolmaster, my good friend ? " 
asked Stouber to the old man. 

" Yes, sir." 

" And what do you teach the children ? " 

" Nothing, sir." 

" Nothing ! How is that ? " 

" Because," replied the old man, with genuine 
naivete, " I know nothing myself." 



170 MEN WHO HATE KISEN 

"Why, then, were you appointed school- 
master ? " 

" Why, sir, I had been taking care of the Wald- 
bach pigs, and when I got too old and infirm for 
that employment, I was sent here to take care of 
the children ! " 

Stouber found the schools of the other villages 
in a similar condition. Nothing could be more 
deplorably wretched than the ignorance of the 
masters, who, for the most part, were swineherds 
and shepherds ! During the months of summer, 
they ranged the hills with their flocks, but in 
winter they were transformed into " dominies," 
without any qualifications for their office, but a 
most laudable stock of good intentions, which led 
them to attempt to teach the children what they 
themselves could not understand ; for the language 
of the Ban is a patois, evidently the old dialect of 
Lorraine; when, therefore, they taught their 
charge to read a French or German elementary 
work, or a fragment of a French Bible, they were 
wholly ^incapable of explaining the sense or of 
giving the correct pronunciation ! 

A man of less ardent piety and determined res- 
olution than M. Stouber, would have departed 
from the Ban in hopeless despair of ever being 
able to bring about a revolution in the condition 
of its wretched inhabitants; but he was rich in 
faith. For fourteen years he labored unceasingly 
to effect the object which lay next his heart, by 
establishing schools, by assiduous pastoral visita- 



OBEKLES, ltfJS PASTOR. 171 

tion, *md by the faithful preaching of the Gospel 
of Christ. Soon after the death of his wife, 
Stouber was appointed to a new sphere of labor ; 
but before entering on this he was anxious to see 
the Ban provided with a man u like-minded " as 
himself. He knew this was no easy matter to 
accomplish, for the difficulties in that isolated place 
were numerous, while the income was extremely 
small. The man who came there, Stouber knew, 
must make up his mind to " endure hardness," to 
suffer privation, to be cut off from all intercourse 
with the educated, and to wholly devote himself 
to the instruction of the poor and the wretched. 
Consequently he feared lest he should find it im- 
possible to obtain any one who would be willing 
to take charge of the parish ; and this grieved him 
the more, as his own health was so completely 
shattered as to forbid his continuance. He, how- 
ever, commenced his inquiries. 

In 1740, at the gymnasium of Strasburg, a man 
of very considerable classical attainments, named 
Oberlin, held the office of tutor. His wife was an 
amiable and accomplished woman. They had 
seven sons and two daughters. Theirs was a joy- 
ous household. If you visited Madame Oberlin 
in the evening of almost any day in the year, you 
would have found her seated in the midst of her 
children, correcting their drawings, or reading 
aloud to them some interesting and instructive 
book. Thus her evenings were spent, and when 
the hour for retiring to rest came, there was gen- 



172 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

erally a united request for one " beautiful hymn 
from dear mamma ! " When that mother's voice 
was no longer heard upon the earth, and the long 
green grass grew thick upon her grave, those 
evening hymns were remembered and their influ- 
ence felt. 

Oberlin was the playfellow as well as the in- 
structor of his children. In the vicinity of Stras- 
burg, at a place named Schiltigheim, he had a few 
acres of land, and there, once a week, during the 
summer, the villagers would see him, with an old 
drum slung across his shoulder, acting as drill 
sergeant and drummer at the same time to his lads, 
whom he put through the military evolutions, with 
which he was well acquainted. One of the boys, 
John Frederic, in consequence of this " playing at 
soldiers," became passionately attached to the 
military profession. Tales and histories of battles 
were eagerly sought after and as eagerly read by 
him. The officers of the troops quartered in the 
city were known to his family, and, being aware 
of the predilection which he had formed, and as- 
tonished at the acquaintance with military science 
which he displayed, granted his request to be per- 
mitted to join the soldiers when at exercise. The 
glitter and excitement of the parade filled the 
boy's mind. 

He, like most of his age, did not interpret the 
word " soldier." Its import was hidden from him, 
or his gentle, sensitive nature would have shrunk 
from it. He looked upon the troops as they marched 



OBEKLLN", THE PASTOR. 173 

before him, with their gay clothing, and glistening 
weapons, and emblazoned banners ; he heard their 
regular tread and thrilling music ; but to him it 
was all only a splendid summer-day pageant — he 
thought not of the cruelty, and gore, and carnage 
of the battle-field. 

Happily for him, his father destined him for a 
learned profession. Filial obedience was a pleas- 
ure to the lad, so, without a regret, he gave him- 
self to the ardent pursuit of the studies which his 
father marked out. A few years, and the curric- 
ulum was passed through, and he was now of age 
to choose a profession. He made choice of the 
ministry. Of the work in which he had engaged, 
he had the clearest views. His was not an ambi- 
tion to preach. The responsibilities of the Chris- 
tian pastor were set before him, and he sought to 
prepare himself for their efficient discharge. When 
pressed to undertake a pastoral charge, his reply 
was, " I need more experience, more knowledge ; 
at present I am not qualified. Moreover, I wish 
to labor where I can be useful, not where I can 
be at ease." The key to his after life is to be 
found in this reply. Seven years elapsed, during 
which he diligently employed himself in the study 
of theology, supporting himself in the meantime 

y acting as tutor to the family of a distinguished 
surgeon of Strasburg, in whose house he acquired 
the knowledge of surgery and the healing art, 
svhich he afterwards turned to such good in the 
Ban de la Roche. 



174 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

Thus he continued teaching* and studying until 
1776, when the chaplaincy of a French regiment 
was offered to him. The a old drum" and the 
military associations of childhood were aroused up 
from the sleep of years. The chaplaincy, he 
thought, presented a prospect of extensive useful- 
ness, so he decided to accept it. Accordingly he 
resigned his tutorship, took lodgings in the city, 
and commenced a preparatory course of reading. 

About this period M. Stouber began his search 
after a pastor to succeed him in the Ban. Ober- 
lin, whose piety, disinterested benevolence, and 
scholarly ability, had already won him the esteem 
of his fellow-citizens, was mentioned to him as 
exactly such a man as he sought. Stouber came 
to Strasburg, and sought out Oberlin's lodgings. 
They were in a mean street, and when he reached 
the house he was directed to a little room up three 
pair of stairs. He opened the door, and the first 
thing that caught his eye was a small bed, covered 
with curtains made of — brown paper ! He entered 
the apartment and approached the bed, and there 
he found Oberlin, racked with the agony of tooth- 
ache. After some conversation, during which he 
rallied him upon the unique character of his bed- 
hangings and the poverty of his abode, he inquired 
the use of a little iron pan which he saw suspended 
above his table. " That," replied Oberlin, " is my 
kitchen. I am accustomed every day to dine at 
home with my parents, and they give me a large 
piece of bread to carry back with me in my pocket. 



OBEKLIN, THE PASTOR. 175 

At eight o'clock in the evening I put my bread 
into that pan; and, having sprinkled it with a 
little salt and water, I place my lamp beneath it, 
and go on with my studies until ten or eleven, 
when I generally begin to feel hungry, by which 
time my slice of bread is nicely cooked, and I 
relish it more than the choicest luxuries." 

Stouber was overjoyed while he listened. This 
was the very man for the Steinthal. He declared 
the object of his visit, portrayed the condition of 
the people, their misery and ignorance, gave ut- 
terance to his own unfeigned sorrow at being 
obliged to leave them, and his fear, lest he could 
prevail upon him to occupy his post, that they must 
perish for lack of knowledge. 

Oberlin's heart was touched. The place which 
Stouber described was just such a one as he had 
often pictured to himself as the scene of his pas- 
torate. But, then, what could he do? his en- 
gagement with the regiment being all but finally 
concluded. He could not think of accepting 
charge of the Ban unless he was liberated from 
the chaplaincy, and, moreover, except there were 
before him no candidates for clerical preferment 
who would accept M. Stouber's proposal. These 
obstacles were soon removed. The chaplaincy 
was speedily filled, and Oberlin was free to be- 
come the pastor of the Ban de la Roche. 

His mother accompanied him to Waldbach, and 
after arranging his little establishment, she bade 
him adieu, leaving with him his youngei sister, 



176 MEN WHO HAVE KISEJS". 

Sophia, who took charge of his household. Pas- 
tor Stouber introduced him to the parishioners ; 
and in April, 1767, in the twenty-seventh year of 
his age, Oberlin became pastor of the Ban de la 
Roche. About a year after this event had taken 
place, a lady of highly cultivated mind and agree- 
able disposition came to Waldbach on a visit to 
Sophia. Her name was Madeline, and she was 
the orphan daughter of Professor Witter of Stras- 
burg. She soon relieved Sophia of her cares as 
her brother's housekeeper ; for, despite of a long- 
cherished determination never to marry a clergy- 
man, Madeline Witter became the wife of Ober- 
lin. A more judicious choice it was impossible to 
make. She was the sharer of his trials and his 
joys. Her prudence and foresight balanced and 
controled his enthusiastic disposition : her devoted 
piety, which led her to fully participate in his 
anxiety to promote the welfare of his people, 
cheered him when desponding, and heightened 
his joy when successful. 

The testing time had now come to Oberlin. 
He was a pastor and a husband. His wife, one of 
the best of women ; his flock, wretched, ignorant, 
scattered — a prey to laziness and hunger — with- 
out the merest necessaries of life, and contented 
to remain so. Let us, then, look at what this 
young man possessed that his hopes should be 
so strong of turning this wilderness into a " gar- 
den of God." What had he?— wealth? No, 
not a stiver ; but he had that which wealth could 



OBERLEtf, THE PASTOR. 1^7 

not, cannot purchase — an earnest, devoted, loving 
heart, a thoughtful and well-disciplined mind, 
considerable scientific skill and practical ability, 

natural and suasive eloquence which at once 
won its way to the heart, habits of self-denial, of 
promptitude, of perseverance, and a joyous wil- 
lingness to endure all things, if by so doing he 
could promote the glory of God and the good of 
mankind. That such a man should accomplish 
what he did is no marvel. It would have been 
miraculous, indeed, if he had failed. 

When he had gone over the parish, he saw that 
Stouber's picture of its degraded state was by no 
means too highly colored, and he felt that all his 
resources would be taxed if he sought to effect 
any change for the better. His quick mind at 
once perceived the connexion which existed be- 
tween their physical vinisery and their moral 
degradation, so he immediately began to devise 
plans to promote their civilization. His first was 
to bring them into contact with the inhabitants of 
the neighboring towns, rightly judging that the 
comfort, and cleanliness, and intelligence which 
they would behold in those places would present 
such a strong contrast to the state of things in 
the Steinthal as at once to beget a desire in their 
minds for improvement. But how was he to 
move ? All the roads connected with the parish 
were literally impassable during the greater por- 
tion of the year, in consequence of land-slips 
which completely blocked them, or their being 
12 



178 MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 

torn up by the rushing down of the mountain- 
torrents during the winter. The people thus shut 
in could neither find a market for their produce 
nor obtain agricultural implements which they 
required. There was but one way to effect the 
desired change. Oberlin made a careful survey 
of the parish, and the result was a determination 
to open up a communication with the high-road 
to Strasburg ; but to do this it would be necessary 
to blast the rocks and to construct a solid wall to 
support a road, which he proposed to carry for 
about a mile and a half along the banks of a deep 
mountain-stream called the Bruche, and then, 
at Rothau, to build a bridge across it. He called 
his parishioners together, and announced his pro- 
ject. They were astonished. "He was mad," 
they said. " The thing was utterly impracticable. 
They had thought for some time that there was 
something strange about him, but now they were 
sure he was downright insane." Thus they 
thought and said, and one and all began to excuse 
themselves from having any share in what they 
deemed such a wild and foolish undertaking. But 
Oberlin pressed the matter upon them, refuted 
their objections respecting the impossibility of 
accomplishing his plan, pointed out the manifest 
and numerous advantages which w^ould result 
from it, both to themselves and to their children, 
and wound up his harangue by shouldering a pick- 
axe and exclaiming, " Let those who see the im- 
portance of what I have stated come and work 




'. those who see the i 



O H ERLIN —THE PASTOR, 
unee <>f what I have stated come and work with iiic/'-Pagk 11! 



OBERLIN, THE PASTOR. 179 

with me ! " The effect was electric. Opposition 
gave way to cheerful acquiescence and the most 
unbounded enthusiasm. He appointed to each 
man a certain task. He soon had more helpers 
than he could find tools for. The news of his under- 
taking reached Strasburg, and implements and 
funds were sent to him. Rocks were undermined 
and blasted ; torrents which had overspread and 
inundated the meadows were guided into chan- 
nels which had been cut to receive them ; where 
the land threatened to slip, walls were built to 
sustain it ; the road was completed to Rothau ; 
at that place he threw a neat wooden bridge 
across the Bruche, which to this day is called 
Le Pont de Charite. The whole was finished, 
and a communication opened up with Strasburg 
in 1770, about a year and a half after his mar- 
riage. 

But how fared it with his duties as a religious 
teacher all this time? Did he neglect them? 
No ; on the contrary, like the great apostle of the 
Gentiles — who thought it not beneath him to 
make tents during the week — Oberlin, who on 
week-days headed his people in their arduous task, 
on the Sabbath directed them with equal zeal 
and earnestness to " the rest which remaineth for 
the people of God." The immediate effect of the 
success of his scheme was the gaining of almost 
unbounded influence over his parishioners. They 
no longer regarded him as a madman, but as the 
only wise one among them. They now cheerfully 



180 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

engaged in any work which he devised, and, very- 
soon, convenient and necessary roads traversed 
the Steinthal, and connected the various villages. 
While he was tutor in M. Ziegenhagen's family 
in Strasburg, he became intimately acquainted 
with botanical science, and acquired not merely 
that knowledge which enables the empiric to 
classify and denominate, but he understood the 
properties of almost every plant, and could at once 
tell you whether it could be used as food or med- 
icine. This knowledge he at once turned to 
account. He introduced the culture of several 
leguminous plants and herbs ; imported seed from 
Riga, and raised flax ; introduced Dutch clover ; 
taught the farmers the use of manure, to make 
composts, to improve the growth of the potato, 
which had so far degenerated that fields which 
had formerly yielded from one hundred and twenty 
to one hundred and fifty bushels, now yielded only 
about thirty or fifty, which the people imputed to 
the sterility of the soil, instead of their own 
neglect. His success was most unequivocal, and 
the consequence was the augmentation of the re- 
sources of the Steinthal. As an example of the 
manner in which he was wont to connect all those 
eflbrts for the temporal welfare with the spiritual 
instruction of his people, the following incident is 
characteristic. Although he had been so success- 
ful in the affair of the road-making, and in the 
introduction of an improved style of husbandry, 
still among the parishioners there was a hankering 



OBERLIST, THE PASTOR. 18} 

after "old fashions," and, for the life of them, 
they could not understand how it was that he who 
never dug, or ploughed, or owned an acre of land 
in his life, should know more about the manage- 
ment of fields and cattle than they did. Ober- 
lin's sagacity at once discovered this, and so, 
when he wished to make any improvement, or 
to introduce any new kind of plant, or vegetable, 
or tree, he began in his own garden, and when 
the curiosity of the people was excited, he 
detailed to them the name of the root, the object 
he had in cultivating it, the mode to be observed 
in its culture, &c, until he had thoroughly in- 
structed them, and kindled a desire in their 
minds to imitate him. There was scarcely a 
fruit-tree worth a groat for miles around, and 
there were few gardens which grew anything but 
the most luxuriant weeds. To talk about the 
matter Oberlin knew would be quite useless ; so 
he betook himself to his old plan of teaching by 
example. He had a servant who was an intelli- 
gent and devoted man; they took counsel to- 
gether. There were two gardens belonging to 
the parsonage, each of which was crossed by a 
well-frequented thoroughfare. One of these 
gardens had been noted for years for the poverty 
and sterility of its soil ; this he determined to 
convert into a nursery-ground ! Trenches, ac- 
cordingly, were dug, and the land laid out ; slips 
of walnut, apple, plum, and pear trees were 
planted. Indue time the trees blossomed ; and 



182 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

when the period of fruitage came, the crop was 
abundant. The plan, as Oberlin anticipated, 
succeeded admirably. Week after week the vil- 
lagers were wont to pause, and wonder how trees 
could grow in such a soil. Then they began to 
contrast the appearance of their pastor's garden 
with their own ; and then they came to him in 
crowds, begging that he would be kind enough to 
instruct them how to grow trees for themselves. 
The object he sought was accomplished. Accord- 
ing to his accustomed mode, he first directed 
their thoughts to Him " who causeth the earth to 
bring forth her bud, and who crowneth the year 
with his goodness," and then gave them the 
desired information. To aid them he gave them 
a supply of young trees from his nursery, and in- 
structed them in the art of grafting. The conse- 
quence was, that in a little time the w T hole district 
changed its aspect : the bare and desolate-looking 
cottages were speedily surrounded by neat little 
gardens ; and, instead of the indigence and misery 
which formerly characterized the villagers and theii 
dwellings, they now put on the garb of rural beauty 
and happiness. So rapid were the advances which 
the people made under his direction, that, in 1778, 
Oberlin formed an Agricultural Society, which he 
connected with the central society at Strasburg. 
By doing so, he secured the use of the society's 
publications raid periodicals, and received its assist- 
ance in the distill ration of the prizes, which were 
annually awarded to the peasants who distinguished 



THE PASTOR. 183 

themselves in the grafting and culture of fruit-trees, 
and in rearing or improving the breed of cattle. 
The Strasburg Society, as a testimony of its sense 
of the advantages which Oberlin's labors had be- 
stowed upon the people, placed two hundred francs 
at his disposal, to be distributed among such agri- 
culturists as he might deem worthy of a prize. He 
soon began to reap the fruit of his toil. Every- 
where around him civilization and the power of the 
Gospel made themselves manifest. With the im- 
provement of their physical condition, their moral 
advancement went hand in hand, till, at length, in 
the district around, and in the towns and cities of 
the basin of the Rhine, few things awakened more 
astonishment, or attracted so much attention, as 
ihe remarkable change which had taken place in 
the people, and the no less remarkable character of 
the pastor of the Ban de la Roche. 

To Oberlin belongs the merit of being the 
founder of Infant Schools ; a fact which justly en- 
titles him to the gratitude of mankind. When he 
took the cure of the Ban in 1767, there was but 
one schoolhouse in the five villages, and that was 
a hut erected by Pastor Stouber, which then was 
in a ruinous state. He called the parishioners to* 
gether, and proposed that they should cither build 
a new one or repair the hut. They gave a decided 
negative to his proposition, nor would they again 
listen to him on the subject, until he engaged that 
no part of the expense should fall on the funds of 
the parish. His income, arising from his salary 



184 MEN" WHO HAVE KISEN. 

as pastor, and his little property, did not amount 
to more than about forty pounds a-year; never- 
theless, he gave the required promise, and the 
schoolhouse was built. " Why should I hesitate 
in this matter ? " said he ; u I seek only the glory 
of God, and therefore I have confidence that He 
will grant me what I desire. If we ask in faith, 
and it be really right that the thing should take 
place, our prayer is certain to be granted. When, 
indeed, are our plans more likely to be successful 
than when we enter upon them in humble and 
simple dependence upon God, whose blessing 
alone can cause them to succeed ? " Thus Ober- 
lin reasoned, and time proved that he reasoned 
aright. God did grant his prayer. His fast 
friends at Strasburg, who watched his progress 
with anxiety, came to his help; and further, in 
the course of a few years the inhabitants hi the 
other four villages voluntarily proposed that a 
school should be built in each, of which they 
would cheerfully bear all the expense! And so 
they did. The young are the hope of the world. 
The men and women of the next generation will 
be what the children of the present are. The 
future is only the development of the present; 
" the child is father to the man." Oberlin direct- 
ed all his energies to the instruction of the young 
of his flock. The habits of the adults might be 
modified, but not eradicated. The men were as 
ignorant of the commonest mechanical arts as 
their wives were of domestic economy or home 



OBERLIN, THE PASTOR. 185 

comfort. They had passed their learning time. 
Not so, however, with their children. So Ober- 
lin selected the most promising, and sent them to 
Strasburg, to acquire the trades of mason, car- 
penter, glazier, wheelwright, and blacksmith 
When they returned to the Ban, they became the 
instructors of others. Their earnings increased 
the little treasuries of the district, while their skill 
accelerated its improvements. 

The schools which were erected were devoted 
to the use of children from the age of ten to 
seventeen. The shepherd-masters who formerly 
played the "dominie" were cashiered, and the 
most respectable of the inhabitants were prevail- 
ed upon to take their places under the imposing 
title of " regents." The plans of instruction were 
drawn up, and the " regents" drilled in the science 
of education by Oberlin. While the schools were 
working well under his careful superintendence, 
he noticed that the infant children were almost 
wholly neglected by their parents, and were there- 
fore forming habits which in after years would 
increase the task of the schoolmaster, if not alto- 
gether nullify his labor. His active mind at once 
devised a remedy for the evil. The result was a 
plan for the establishment of Infant Schools — the 
first of the kind ever known. Experience of his 
own family and keen observation in the families of 
others, led him to the conclusion that children 
begin to learn even in the cradle ; that at the 
earliest age they are capable of being taught the 



186 MEN WHO HA YE RISEST. 

difference "between right and wrong ; and are 
easily trained to habits of obedience and industry. 
His beloved and intelligent wife entered heart and 
soul into his views. The most pious and intelli- 
gent females of the community were induced to 
take charge of the schools. For their use, Ober- 
lin rented a large room in each village, and out of 
his own pocket paid the salaries. The instruction 
given to the little ones was mingled with amuse- 
ment, and habits of attention and subordination 
were formed, while information of the most valu- 
able kind was communicated in a manner which 
rendered it attractive to the infant mind. The 
songs of " dear mamma " had left too deep and 
hallowed an influence upon Oberlin's mind to 
cause him to overlook the value of music in the 
instruction of youth. Singing was taught in all 
the schools. At a proper age the children were 
transferred to the public schools, prepared, by the 
progress which they had made, to enjoy the ad. 
vantages which were there afforded to them. In 
addition to reading, writing, arithmetic, and geog- 
raphy, they were carefully instructed in the prin- 
ciples of agriculture and other industrial arts, in 
sacred and uninspired history, and in astronomy. 
Their religious cultivation was a task which Ober- 
lin considered his own, and faithfully did he fulfill it. 
With the view of encouraging the spirit of emu- 
lation between the several schools, and to improve 
the modes of instruction pursued by the various 
masters, a weekly meeting of all the scholars was 



OBERLUST, THE PASTOR. 187 

held at Waldbach. By this the machinery of the • 
whole was kept bright and in good working order. 
The master and the pupils were stimulated, know- 
ing that the weekly meeting would bring disgrace 
to the idle, but to the industrious and good public 
commendation, and the approval of " dear papa, 55 
as Oberlin was called by his people. In addition 
to this weekly examination, on every Sabbath, at 
each village church in rotation, the children assem- 
bled to sing the hymns and to repeat the passages 
of Scripture which they had learned during the 
w T eek. At the close he usually gave them an 
address ; and superlatively happy was the child or 
young person who was fortunate enough to merit 
the approving smile of " dear papa. 55 

His benevolent efforts were well seconded by 
the Christians of Strasburg. They sent him several 
sums of money, all of which were devoted by him 
to the public use. A printing-press was added to 
the resources of the Ban. This enabled him to print 
several books which he composed and compiled for 
the exclusive use of the schools and his parishioners, 
and to award prizes both to the teachers and pupils. 
He also made a collection of indigenous plants, 
and procured an electrical machine, and several 
other philosophical instruments ; various works on 
natural history and general science were circulated 
on the " book society 55 plan, each village retaining 
them for three months, care being taken that every 
house, according to the number of the family, pos- 
sessed them for a definite time. Every individual 



188 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN, 

was impressed with the conviction that it was a 
first duty, as well as a great privilege, to promote 
the glory of God and the welfare of mankind. 
Every work which was undertaken of a public or 
private nature was discharged, each one bearing 
in mind his responsibility to promote the prosper- 
ity of all, by " provoking his neighbor to love and 
to good works." Thus the Ban was changed. 
Where ignorance and its never-failing attendants, 
cruelty, vice, poverty, reigned supreme, piety in- 
telligence, meekness, and plenty, held triumphant 
sway. 

All that knew him loved him. His worth was 
acknowledged not only by those who were near, 
but by those who were far off. Louis XVIII. 
sent him the ribbon of the Legion of Llonor, and 
the royal agricultural society of France voted him 
a gold medal. When Count Francois de Neuf- 
chateau proposed this vote, he said, " If you 
would behold an instance of what may be effected 
in any country for the advancement of agriculture 
and the interests of humanity, friends of the plough 
and of human happiness, ascend the Vosges Moun- 
tains, and behold the Ban de la Roche ! " At the 
time of the foundation of the British and Foreign 
Bible Society, his fame had spread into Britain ; 
and one of the first grants made by the Society was 
to pastor Oberlin for the inhabitants of the Ban. 

Oberlin's heaviest trial, though not his first, was 
the loss of his wife. She died in January, 1784, 
in the sixteenth year of their union. She departed 



OBEELIN, THE PASTOR. 189 

LJnost suddenly, leaving him seven, out of nine, 
children, the youngest being only about ten weeks 
old. Nothing could be more characteristic than 
his conduct on this distressing occasion. Her 
death was wholly unlooked-for. When the intel- 
ligence was brought to him, he was stunned, and 
remained for some time in silence, quite incapable 
of giving utterance to his feelings. He then fell 
on his knees and returned " thanks to God that 
his beloved partner was now beyond the reach or 
need of prayer, and that her heavenly Father had 
crowned the abundance of His mercies towards 
her, by giving her so easy a departure." At their 
marriage they had prayed that they might always 
have death before their eyes, and always be pre. 
pared for it ; and " if it be a thing," they added, 
" which we may ask of Thee, oh ! grant that we be 
not long separated one from another, but that the 
death of one may speedily, very speedily, follow 
that of the other." From the period of his wife's 
death a deepened seriousness was observable in his 
conversation and deportment. He was grave, not 
gloomy. A word of repining or murmuring never 
escaped his lips. It was the Lord's doing, and it 
was right. About six months after he had laid 
lier in the grave, he composed an address to his 
parishioners, and laid it aside, to be delivered to 
hem after his decease, as his last charge. In this 
document he briefly states when and where he was 
born, when he took charge of the Ban, the time of 
his marriage, the number of his children, " two of 



190 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

whom," he said, " have already entered paradise, 
and seven remain in this world ;" he also names 
the day and the circumstances in which his wife 
died. 

" Upon this occasion," he goes on to say, " as 
upon a thousand others in the course of my life, 
notwithstanding my overwhelming affliction, I was 
upheld by God's gracious assistance in a very re- 
markable manner. I have had all my life a desire, 
occasionally a very strong one, to die, owing in 
some measure to the consciousness of my moral 
infirmities and of my frequent derelictions. My 
affection for my wife and children, and my attach- 
ment to my parish, have sometimes checked this 
desire, though for short intervals only. I had, 
about a year since, some presentiment of my ap- 
proaching end. I did not pay much attention to 
it at the time ; but, since the death of my wife, I 
have received unequivocal warnings of the same 
nature. Millions of times have I besought God to 
enable me to surrender myself with entire and 
filial submission to his will, either to live or die, 
and to bring me into such a state of resignation as 
neither to wish, nor to say, nor to do, nor to under- 
take anything, but what He, who only is wise and 
good, sees to be best. Having had such frequent 
intimations of my approaching end, I have ar- 
ranged all my affairs as far as I am able, in order 
to prevent confusion after my death. For my 
dear children I fear nothing; but as I always 
greatly preferred being useful to others to giving 



OBERLIN, THE PASTOR. 191 

them trouble, I suffer much from the idea that 
they may occasion sorrow or anxiety to the friends 
who take charge of them. May God abundantly 
reward them for it ! With regard to my children 
themselves I have no anxiety ; for I have had such 
frequent experience of the mercy of God towards 
myself, and place such full reliance upon his good- 
ness, his wisdom, and his love, as to render it im- 
possible for me to be at all solicitous about them. 
Their mother was at a very early age deprived of 
her parents ; but she was, notwithstanding, a better 
Christian than thousands who have enjoyed the 
advantages of parental instruction. Besides, I 
know that God hears our prayers ; and ever since 
the birth of our children, neither their mother nor 
I have ceased to supplicate him to make them 
faithful followers of Jesus Christ, and laborers in 
his vineyard. And thou, O my dear parish ! 
neither will God forsake thee. He has towards 
thee, as I have often said, thoughts of peace and 
mercy. All things will go well with thee; only 
cleave thou to him, and leave him to act. Oh! 
may est thou forget my name, and retain only that 
of Jesus Christ, whom I have proclaimed to thee. 
Tie is thy pastor ; I am but his servant. He is 
that good Master who, after having trained and 
prepared me from my youth, sent me to thee that 
I might be useful. He alone is wise, good, al- 
mighty, and merciful ; and as for me, I am but a 
poor, feeble, wretched man." . . . This touching 
document concludes thus : " O, my God ! let thine 



192 MEN WHO HAYE EISEN. 

eye watch over my dear parishioners ; let thine ear 
be open to hear them ; thine arm be extended to 
succor and protect them ! Lord Jesus, thou 
hast intrusted this parish to my care, feeble and 
miserable as I am ; oh ! suffer me to commend 
it to thee — to resign it into thy hands. Give 
it pastors after thine own heart ; never forsake 
it ; overrule all things for its good ! Enlighten 
them, guide them, love them, bless them all ; and 
grant that the young and old, the teachers and the 
taught, pastors and parishioners, may all, in due 
time, meet together in thy paradise! Even 
so, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ! Even so. 
Amen !" 

Forty-two years after this parting address was 
written, it was found among his papers, and was 
read in the churchyard to his assembled people, 
before his body was lowered down into the grave. 
Those forty-two years were spent, like those that 
preceded them, in unremitting attention to the 
instruction of his flock. The death of his sons, 
which took place when they had attained the age 
of manhood, seemed only to quicken his diligence, 
and to deepen his solicitude respecting the eternal 
welfare of his charge. The apostolic injunction 
came with power to his heart — he was " instant in 
season and out of season," and always " fervent in 
spirit." He did not content himself with preach- 
ing publicly, but paid pastoral visits to every 
cottage in his large parish, and conversed with 
the people upon their spiritual condition, and 



OBERLEtf, THE PASTOR. 193 

upon the various efforts which were made by 
benevolent individuals to diffuse religious know- 
ledge throughout the world. On every Friday 
he conducted a service in German, for the benefit 
of about two hundred persons in the Ban, to 
whom that language was more familiar than the 
French. At his Friday evening service he used 
to lay aside all form, and the now silvery-headed 
old man seemed more like a father surrounded by 
his children than the minister of an extensive dis- 
trict. At those meetings, in order that no time 
might be lost, he used to make his female hearers 
knit stockings for their poorer neighbors, not for 
themselves ; it was a work of charity, he said, and 
needed not to either distract their attention or to 
diminish their devotion. When he had for some 
time read and expounded the Bible to them, he 
would often say, "Well, children, are you not 
tired ? Have you had enough ?" If they said, 
" Enough for one time," he would leave off; but 
the more frequent reply was, " No, dear papa, go 
on ; we should like to hear a little more ! " His 
discourses for the Sabbath were carefully prepared. 
In them he preserved a colloquial plainness, scru- 
pulously avoiding the use of words or phrases 
which were not level to the apprehension of his 
hearers. He drew largely upon natural history, 
with which his people were well acquainted, for 
illustration; and he frequently introduced bio- 
graphical anecdotes of persons who were eminent 
for piety or benevolence. 
13 



194 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

The close of his earthly career was, like that of 
a summer day, calm and peaceful. His was a 
green old age, the snows of time, although they 
rested upon his head, sent no chill into the warm 
affections of his heart. In the latter part of his 
life, the increasing infirmities of age prevented 
him from occupying himself, as he was wont, in 
the discharge of his pastoral duty. If he could 
not visit nor preach to his flock, he could pray for 
them. The sand was now low in the glass. The 
last grain ran out on the morning of the 1st of 
June, 1826, when he was in the eighty-sixth year 
of his age. The illness which preceded his de- 
parture continued for four days. On the morning 
of the first of June, at six o'clock, his pain abated. 
His children were grouped around his bed, and at 
intervals he clasped their hands and pressed them 
to his heart. His limbs soon became cold and 
lifeless, and he lost the use of his speech. His 
last act was to take off his cap, and to join his 
hands as in prayer, and to raise his eyes toward 
heaven ; his countenance as he did so, beaming 
with joy and love. He closed his eyes never to 
open them again until the day of the resurrection. 
About eleven o'clock, the toll of the passing-bell 
informed the inhabitants of the valley that he who 
had watched over them for nearly sixty years 
would watch no more. 

Four days afterwards he was buried. During 
the interval which elapsed between his decease 
and the simple and affecting ceremony which con- 



THE PASTOR. 195 

signed his remains to the grave, heavy clouds 
rested on the surrounding mountains, and the 
rain poured down in incessant torrents. Nature 
seemed to sympathise with the feelings which 
swelled the hearts of his people, and which bowed 
their souls with the sincerest sorrow. Oberlin's 
remains were placed in a coffin with a glass lid, 
and laid in his study, where, despite of the in- 
clemency of the weather, the inhabitants of the 
Ban and of the surrounding districts (of all ages, 
conditions, and religious denominations) congre- 
gated to take a farewell look at his beloved face. 

Early in the morning of the day fixed for the 
interment, the clouds cleared away and the sun 
shone with its wonted brilliancy. As the pro- 
cession left the house, the president of the consis- 
tory of Barr placed Oberlin's clerical robes upon 
the coffin, the vice-president of the consistory 
placed his Bible upon it, and the mayor affixed 
the decoration of the Legion of Honor to the 
funeral pall. At the conclusion of this ceremony, 
ten or twelve young females, who had been stand- 
ing round the bier, sung a hymn, and at two 
o'clock the procession began to move, the coffin 
being borne by the mayors, elders, and official 
magistrates of the Ban and of the neighboring 
communes. 

The region round about seemed to have sent 
forth all its inhabitants, so great was the concourse 
which assembled. The interment took place at 
Foudai, two miles distant from Oberlin's house, 



196 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN. 

but the foremost of the funeral train had reached 
the churchyard before the last had left the par- 
sonage ! The children and youths of the differ- 
ent schools formed part of the melancholy pro- 
cession, chanting at intervals sacred hymns, se- 
lected and adapted to the occasion. When they 
approached Foudai, a new bell, which had been 
presented in commemoration of this day of sor- 
row, was heard to toll for the first time, and to 
mingle its melancholy sound with the bells of the 
valley. The burying-ground was surrounded by 
Roman Catholic women, all dressed in deep 
mourning, and kneeling in silent prayer. On 
arriving at the church, the coffin was placed at 
the foot of the communion-table, and as many 
persons entered as the little place would contain, 
the great multitude having to remain in the 
churchyard and the adjoining lanes. Notwith- 
standing the presence of so great a number of 
persons, the utmost order and solemnity prevailed. 
Several persons, who could find room nowhere 
else, sat down on the steps beside the coffin, as if 
anxious to cling to the ashes of one whom they 
loved so well. Many distinguished persons were 
present, and several Roman Catholic jDriests, 
dressed in their canonicals, sat among the mem- 
bers of the consistory. At the conclusion of the 
president's address, a hymn was sung, and the 
coffin borne to the grave, which is on one side of 
the little church, beneath a weeping willow that 
shades the tomb of his son Henry. Here, amidst 



OBERLIN, THE PASTOK. 19 7 

the tears of the assembled thousands, the earth 
was heaped upon the house of clay which once 
contained the spirit of John Frederic Oberlin, the 
world's benefactor, while the humble and Christ- 
like pastor of the Ban de la Roche. 

Reader, do you wish to die as he died ? If so, 
live as he lived ; and your memory, like his, will 
be green and fragrant throughout all ages. 



ELIHU BUBKITT, THE LINGUIST. 

Elihu Burritt was born at New Britain, Con- 
necticut, on the 11th of December, 1811. He 
was the son of a shoemaker, who reared a family 
of five children in the fear of God and love of 
virtue. During Elihu's boyhood, he assisted his 
father with the lap-stone ; about four months of 
every year he enjoyed the privilege of attending 
the district school, but the remainder of his time 
was required as a contribution to the general laboi 
necessary for the support of the family. Elihu 
lost his father when at the age of sixteen. It now 
became necessary for him to strike out a path for 
himself; he determined to learn the blacksmith's 
trade ; and, entering into the necessary arrange- 
ments, he apprenticed himself to a blacksmith, 
with whom he remained until he was twenty-one 
years of age. 

At a very early age Elihu evinced an extraordi- 
nary thirst for knowledge. He read everything 
upon which he could lay his hands. When he 



ELIHD BUKRITT, THE LINGUIST. 199 

entered upon his apprenticeship he was familiar 
with the Bible, the history of the Revolutionary 
War, and had the advantage of a few desultory 
volumes. But he now had access to the town 
library, which he availed himself of with so much 
assiduity, that in a brief period he had exhausted 
every book of history upon its shelves. He next 
turned to poetry. This kind of reading he was 
very fond of; he perused Thomson's Seasons, 
Young's Night Thoughts, Pollock's Course of 
Time, Shakespeare and Milton. But his passion 
for reading did not retard his advancement in his 
trade ; he became a first-rate blacksmith, as well 
as an earnest scholar. Having exhausted the 
library and mastered his trade, he now became 
animated with a desire to obtain access to those 
authors who were beyond his reach. Scholarship 
became his pastime. His indentures having ter- 
minated, he placed himself under the tuition of 
his brother, a lawyer and a man of education. 
This gentleman enabled him to pursue the study 
of mathematics ; he also took up Latin and French. 
Employing his winter this way, in the spring he 
returned to hie forge, and, in order to make up for 
lost time and supply himself with the means of 
pursuing his studies, he undertook to do the work 
of two men, laboring hard at the anvil for over 
fourteen hours a day. 

"After he could read French with pleasure," 
says the Reverend R. W. Bailey, to whom we are 
indebted for the materials of this sketch, "he took 



200 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

up Spanish. After reading the Spanish with ease 
le commenced the Greek, carrying his grammar in 
his hat while he worked, and studying at the anvil 
and the for^e. He pursued this course until the 
fall of the year (1833.) He then made his ar- 
rangements to devote himself to study for another 
winter. He went to New Haven, not so much, as 
he said, to find a teacher, as under the conviction 
that there was the proper place to study. As soon 
as he arrived he sat down to the reading of Ho- 
mer's Iliad alone, without notes, or translation, or 
any other help. At the close of the first day, 
after intense application, he had read fifteen lines, 
much to his own satisfaction. After this success- 
ful effort, he determined to go on without a 
teacher ; he accordingly made a systematic dis- 
tribution of his time and studies. He rose at four, 
and studied German until breakfast, then studied 
Greek until noon, then spent an hour at Italian. 
In the afternoon he studied Greek until night, and 
then studied Spanish until bed-time. This course 
he continued until he could read two hundred 
lines a day of Homer, besides carrying forward 
the other studies in their order. During the win- 
ter he read twenty books of Homer's Iliad, be- 
sides studying with equal success the other 
languages in the hours assigned to them." 

In the Spring he accepted an invitation to teach 
a grammar-school. In this situation he remained 
for a year ; he then acted as agent for a manu- 
facturing company, and traveled extensively 



ELIHU BURRITT, THE LINGUIST. 20l 

through the country. During this period his studies 
were nearly entirely interrupted. He returned to 
the anvil once more, and resumed his studies with 
fresh enthusiasm. He soon became proficient in 
the ancient and European languages, and turned 
hib attention to the Oriental tongues. The means 
for acquiring these were limited. He determined 
to enlist as a sailor, that he might travel to places 
more available for this purpose. He proceeded to 
Boston and endeavored to obtain a ship. He was 
unsuccessful ; but while in that city he heard of the 
American Antiquarian Society at Worcester. He 
proceeded there at once, and found, as he says, 
such a collection of books on ancient, modern, and 
Oriental languages as he never before conceived to 
be collected together in one place. The use of 
this library was at once tendered him ; he made 
arrangements to study three hours a day, and work 
at the anvil for his support at other times. In this 
manner he pursued the study of the most difficult 
of the languages, and advanced with such marvel- 
ous rapidity that before he left Worcester he was 
able to read Hebrew, Greek, Latin, Gaelic, Eng- 
lish, Welsh, Irish, Celtic, French, Spanish, Portu- 
guese, Italian, German, Flemish, Saxon, Gothic, 
Icelandic, Polish, Bohemian, Russian, Sclavonic, 
Armenian, Turkish, Chaldaic, Syriac, Samaritan, 
Arabic, Ethiopic, Indian, Sanscrit, and Tamul. 

Mr. Bailey publishes an interesting account of a 
visit to Mr. Burritt's smithy. " On my first ar- 
9* 



202 MEN WHO HAVE KISEtf. 

rival at Worcester, I proceeded directly from the 
cars to inquire out Mr. Burritt. After two or 
three directions, I arrived at an extensive iron 
foundry. In a long line of workshoj^s I was 
directed to that in which Mr. Burritt was em- 
ployed. I entered, and, seeing several forges, 
sought for the object of my visit. 'He has just 
left, and is probably in his study,' said a son of 
Vulcan, resting his hammer on his shoulder mean- 
while ; ' there is his forge,' pointing to one. that 
was silent. I had but a moment to study it. Its 
entire structure and apparatus resembled ordinary 
forges, except that it was neater and in better 
order. Mr. Burritt is a bachelor and a journey- 
man, and earns a shilling an hour by contract with 
the proprietor of this foundry. He lives and fur- 
nishes himself with books by this laborious appli- 
cation to his trade. Seeing on his table what ap- 
peared to be a diary, I read as follows : ' August 
18. Forged 16 hours — read Celtic 3 hours — trans- 
lated 2 pages of Icelandic, and three pages of 
German.' This was a single item of similar records 
which run through the book. To abate my sur- 
prise, he told me that this was a correct memoran- 
dum of the labors of every day ; but the sixteen 
hours of labor was that which he performed in a 
"'oft, and for which he was paid by the estimate of 
its value, but that he performed it in eight hours, 
thus gaining both time and money by double labor. 
Eight hours a day is his ordinary habit of labor at 



ELIHU BUKRITT, THE LINGUIST. 203 

the forge." The same writer describes Mr. Bur- 
ritt (1843) as a person of middle stature, rather 
slender proportions, high, receding forehead, 
deeply set, steady, grayish eye, thin visage, fair 
complexion, thin, compressed upper lip, a hectic 
glow, and hair bordering on the brown or auburn. 

In 1844 Mr. Burritt commenced the publication 
of a newspaper called the " Christian Citizen," and 
from that time has been largely known for his ad« 
vocacy of peace doctrines— views which he has 
disseminated with enthusiasm. He is also an ad- 
vocate of an ocean penny postage, in the further- 
ance of which he has visited Europe, and delivered 
popular lectures in several of the principal cities. 
Mr. Burritt's literary productions include, mainly, 
" Sparks from the Anvil," " A Voice from the 
Forge," and Peace Papers for the People." He 
has also printed some translations from the north- 
ern classics. 

" Mr. Burritt furnishes a remarkable instance of 
what may be accomplished by perseverence in spite 
of the most unfavorable circumstances. A forge, 
of all places in the world, would seem the least 
favorable for the prosecution of studies demanding 
an unusual concentration of mind ; yet, by a con- 
tented exercise of the will, Mr. Burritt was deaf 
to the tumult which surrounded him, and was 
able to accomplish an amount of study which 
places him in the front rank of great scholars. 
The other phase of his character, in which he has 
manifested decided originality and philanthropy, 



204: MEN WHO HAVE EISEK. 

will be better appreciated when the beneficence of 
his efforts are reviewed by the historian. In every 
respect Mr. Burritt is great and noble, and his 
name will descend to future generations as a brigb* 
example of a self-made man." 



WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GKINDEK. 

"Knives to grind !" cried Wilhelm, as lie limped 
through the streets of Brussels, driving his old 
crazy machine before him. " Knives and scissors 
to grind !" Wilhelm did not limit his trade to the 
grinding of knives and scissors exclusively ; he 
would not refuse to put an edge upon a butcher's 
cleaver, and he was even very thankful to obtain 
a hatchet to reduce to chopping acuteness, but he 
only cried " Knives and scissors to grind," as has 
been the custom of itinerant cutlers since the days 
of Cataline. Wilhelm drove his machine before 
him very slowly, and he perhaps required to do 
so, as it was rather fragile in its constitution ; but 
he called "Knives to grind" with a lusty, cheer- 
ful, happy voice, that seemed to belie his own 
constitution ; for he, too, like his precursor com- 
bination of beams, and stones, and wheels, was 
none of the most robust of creation's works. He 
was a little, ragged, lame, and feeble Fleming, 
with an old and well-worn grinding wheel as his 



206 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

only property ; and anybody particular in affinities 
would have said they were made for each other. 

Wilhelm's face would have been notified merely 
as " a face," by a passer by. Any one would have 
been satisfied at a glance that it was deficient in 
none of the constituent parts of the human visage ; 
but the thought of whether it was beautiful or 
ugly would never have intruded itself amongst 
his impressions. His large, old, broad-brimmed 
hat was slouched over his back and shoulders, and 
threw a deep shade upon his brow ; and then, 
again, his thick black hair clung in large curls 
down his pale cheeks, and also partly obscured his 
features ; so that Wilhelm's countenance was not 
put forward to advantage like those of the bucks 
who promenaded the Boulevards, and therefore it 
might be full of hidden beauties for aught the 
world knew. His well-patched blouse hung loosely 
round his spare form, investing it with even more 
than its own due proportion of apparent robust- 
ness; but poverty's universal and palpable mantle 
hung over him all, with a truthful tell-tale earnest- 
ness of whose reality there could be no mistake. 
In this guise Wilhelm limped along, then, crying 
out for customers, and looking sharply about him 
for the same. He would turn his glancing eyes to 
the high windows of the quaint wooden-fronted 
houses, from which pretty damsels were looking 
into the street, and then he would look earnestly 
at the portly merchants who leant lazily over their 
half doors ; but, though neither dame nor burgher 



WILHELM, THE KNIFE -GRINDER. 207 

would pay any attention to him, Wilhelm would 
still jog on and shout as gaily as if he were a wild 
bird uttering his accustomed cry. 

It was through the lower or Flemish part of the 
city that the knife-grinder pursued his slow and de- 
vious course, and either mantua-making and knife- 
using were at a discount, or all these utensils had 
been in good repair in that quarter, for poor Wil- 
helm had little, save the echo of his own cry from 
the throat of some precocious urchin, for his pains. 

Up one street went Wilhelm, and down another. 
He often rested in front of the great Church of St. 
Gudule, and looked admiringly at its architecture, 
for he had a strong love for the beautiful, although 
he was only a knife-grinder; and sometimes he 
would seat himself upon the handle of his machine, 
in order to contemplate the outward grandeur of 
the Hotel de Ville ; but if any one had supposed 
that there was one envious thought in all his con- 
templations, he did the knife-grinder injustice, for 
no envy had he, poor though he was. 

To those who knew all about Wilhelm, there 
was nothing more incomprehensible in the world 
than his lightness of heart. That he should sing 
was one of the most startling of anomalies — he, 
whose father, the fireman, perished in trying to 
rescue his own wife and Wilhelm's mother from 
the flames of his burning home. It was often said 
by those who saw the knife-grinder's ever-cheerful 
aspect, that he might think of his father and mo- 
ther, and if nothing else could remind him of them, 



208 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

surely his own lameness might ; for it was upon 
the night when they perished that he was afflicted, 
and yet he didn't seem to think so. 

Wilhelm's life was a lonely enough one, without 
adding to it the pains and penalties of a morbid 
melancholy ; but some folks didn't think so, and 
would have had him forever sad as well as lonely. 
It was acknowledged that Wilhelm was a wonder- 
ful lad, however ; and as this phrase is capable of 
a multiplicity of explications, it may be as well to 
state that he had refused all offers of a pecuniary 
nature from anybody whatever, had established 
himself in a little dwelling, and supported himself 
by his grinding-machine, and this is why he was 
termed wonderful. If it had been possible to look 
into the bosom of the knife-grinder, there would 
have been seon throbbing there, and sending 
through every channel of his frame a current of 
boundless love, a heart as rich and pure as ever 
bosom bore. It was a wonderful heart, too ; for 
it was stout and strong, and bore up as if it had 
been a giant's sent to animate a weakling. There 
was no flinching in its courage, no dr coping in its 
joyous mood, no change in its loving pulsations 
from morn to night as he plodded up one narrow 
street, down another, through crossings and 
squares, and courts, and by-ways. Wilhelm the 
knife-grinder's heart was a hero's ; and let who 
will say otherwise, we will maintain, with tongue 
and pen, that it was, and of the proudest order, too 
It is easy, it is natural for hearts to maintain theii 



WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDEB. 209 

beauty and their goodness in those sunny »pots of 
the world to which love and beauty are indigenous. 
By cheerful hearths, where, in the ruddy glow of 
the log, and in the bright flame, you picture golden 
gardens, and caverns, and groves, 6r behold the 
brightly lighted faces of childhood, how can the 
heart wither or grow sad ? In the duality of love 
resides its natural life. Heart answering heart, 
bright eye enlightening eye, kind words echoing 
back love's gentle aspirations — these maintain the 
eternal spring of the affections, as sunlight and 
heat give to the earth her summer. If Wilhelm 
had resided in the Park where the nobility and 
English dwelt, or in the great Sablon Square 
among the merchants and savans, it would have 
been easy for one so constituted to have been 
happy and gay ; but to maintain a vital relation 
to bright and glorious heaven, amidst the darkness 
and gloom of a lonely little room in the dingiest 
spot of the low town of Brussels, was heroism, let 
the world say as it will. 

" Oh, have pity, and give the poor little home- 
less one a mite ! " said a soft and gentle voice — so 
soft and gentle that the words might have been 
with propriety addressed direct to Heaven, as well 
as in the ear of one of Heaven's humblest agents 
upon earth, Wilhelm the knife-grinder. 

It was in a dark and wretched quarter of the 

town where he was thus accosted, a spot whost* 

gloom the shade of evening scarcely deepened; 

black walls, grim with the smoke of ages and 

14 



210 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

crumbling to ruin, rose on either hand, and, con- 
verging at the top, seemed agreed to meet and 
exclude the blue heavens and sunbeams. Little 
windows, dirty, dingy, broken, and rag-patched, 
told that these high walls were the walls of homes 
and the faces of human beings, peeping now and 
again from them, were the indices of immured life 
and thought. Yet, even in that lofty series of 
chambers, where humility scarcely could brook to 
live, the little outcast, who had breathed her pite- 
ous accents to Wilhelm, had no spot to lay her 
head. 

" One little farthing to buy a roll to poor Lelie," 
pursued the child, in tremulous tones ; " oh, I am 
hungry !" and she laid her hand on that of Wil- 
helm, and looked up in his face. 

The knife-grinder's machine dropped from his 
hands as if he had been suddenly struck, and he 
turned towards the suppliant with so benign a 
look that the child smiled in his face and crouched 
nearer to his person. 

■" Poor Lelie," said Wilhelm, descimating his 
fortune and presenting the tithe to the infant, " art 
thou hungry ? " 

"Yes] and cold, and sad," said the child, art- 
lessly; "I have no father nor mother, nor any- 
body to care for me ; I am a beggar and an out- 
cast." 

The knife-grinder held in his breath, as he bent 
to listen to the words of Lelie, and when she had 
done he caught her hand, stretched himself proudlj 



WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDER. 211 

up, and breathed long and freely, while his eyes 
became radiant and his face illumined with a sud- 
den and noble purpose. 

" Alone, like me," exclaimed the knife-grinder; 
4 poor child ! Oh ! is there another even more 
destitute of all the reciprocities of love than lame 
Wilhelm ?" and he turned his kindly face towards 
the little girl ; " I could sit at my lone fire at night 
when the world around me slept, and I could hold 
communion with my parents' spirits in silent peace 
and joy ; but Lelie, what will night be to her but 
houseless horror. I am a man," pursued Wilhelm, 
again stretching himself and striving to look 
strong; "I am independent," and he shook the 
coppers in his pocket ; " can I not snatch this 
child from sorrow and hunger ? Jan Roos the 
water-carrier keeps a great dog, which I am sure 
will eat more food than Lelie — why not keep a 
child as well as a dog ? " The spirit within the 
knife-grinder seemed to say, why not? and the 
spirit of the outcast child seemed to know it, for 
Lelie crouched still closer to Wilhelm, and looked 
up in his face as if she knew him. u And does no 
one care for you, Lelie ? " said the poor lame 
youth, softly; " is there no one to love you?" 

" None but the Father who dwells beyond the 
stars with good angels," said the child, timidly. 

"Then thou shalt go with me for His Son's 
sake," said Wilhelm, snatching her up in his arms 
and kissing her pale, thin cheek, as lovingly and 
rapturously as if it had bloomed in health and 



212 MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 

beauty. " Thou shalt go with me, and I will love 
thee and take care of thee, and thou shalt grow 
up to be a woman, and I will be to thee as a 
father. Sit there, Lelie, and hold on firmly ; my 
machine is not very strong, but it will bear thee. 
I am not so brave and stout as the sentinels at the 
castle gate, but I will be weaker if I cannot carry 
thee home ; so here we go ; " and, with a heart 
overflowing with feelings which he had never 
known before, and his eyes dancing with a pleasure 
which surpassed all former emotions, he limped on 
with his crazy wheel and smiling child, the proud- 
est man that night in Brussels. 

"Here we are," cried Wilhelm, as he hurled 
Lelie into the dark passage of his home, opened 
his door, and, lifting her gently down, placed her 
upon his cold hearth-stone. "It won*t be cold 
long," cried he, laughing cheerily, as he struck a 
light and applied it to the wood from the forest of 
Soignies, which filled his grate. " It isn't a palace 
this, Lelie ; .but if you are not as happy as a little 
queen, it shall be no fault of mine. Come, let me 
wash thy face and hands with this sweet water 
from the Seine, and eat thou of this brown 
bread. 5 * 

After ministering in every possible way to the 
comfort of his protege, Wilhelm sat him down, 
and looked upon her with eyes that sparkled in 
the light of his crackling logs. A strange elevat- 
ing sensation stole over his spirit — a sense of dig 
nity and power that he had never known in his 



WILHELM, THE KNIFE- GRINDER. 213 



loneliness. Was it not a direct radiation from 
heaven which exalted the soul of this poor man, 
with an inward cognizance of paternity ? " My 
child," muttered Wilhelm, with a sweet smile ; 
" mine ! — I now have something to care for ; 
something that will learn to care for me. Jan 
Roos's dog loves him, I know, and would fight 
for him ; but his dog is but a brute. This young 
Lelie was sent from heaven, fresh, rosy, and glow- 
ing with a celestial nature, and then misfortune 
blighted her, to render her a fit companion for the 
heart-lone Wilhelm Voss." 

Everybody wondered to see how clean and neat 
Wilhelm the knife-grinder became all at once. 
He felt that it was necessary to give Lelie a good 
example in all things, and so he kept his blouse as 
clean as if every day were Sunday. A change 
came over the aspect of his home, too ; he became 
particular with regard to scrubbing his floor, and 
burnishing his two little cooking pans, and 
arranging his crockery ; and when he took Lelie 
to school, and paid a weekly instalment of what 
he intended to pay for her education, she and he 
were so trig and neat that the teacher said he 
was glad to see a brother have such care over his 
sister. 

Wilhelm became filled by degrees with a sense 
of home and an assurance of love. When he was 
abroad, his thoughts were dancing in the flames of 
his own beaming hearth, and smiling in the face 
of pretty, blooming Lelie. In every penny he 



214 MEN WHO HATE RISEN. 

earned, he recognized her share ; in every step he 
took at nightfall towards his dwelling, amongst 
his anticipations of peace, rest, and comfort, her 
face was seen smiling him on, and her hands 
were seen spreading his board. Wilhelm's for- 
tunes began to mend as the little girl began to 
grow up. He could not account for it unless as a 
gracious dispensation of that Great Ruler of good, 
who sent a double share of work to him for Lelie's 
sake. But work came to him now, when he didn't 
call out for it ; and as he was respectable, and 
could go with his new machine to the Park, it 
was astonishing how much money he would carry 
home in the evenings. Nobody would have be- 
lieved that the Wilhelm Voss who had his name 
painted jauntily on a board in front of his machine, 
and wore a smart blouse and beaver, was the same 
lame Wilhelm who bore home the little foundling 
five years previously. His cheeks were clean and 
ruddy, and his bright black eyes were scarcely 
brighter than his well-combed locks ; and the 
cookmaids who brought him knives to grind often 
declared that his face was very handsome ; and, 
blessings on their woman's hearts, they pitied him 
that he was lame, and you would have thought 
that they blunted the knives on purpose, so reg- 
ularly did they bring them to Wilhelm to sharp. 

Little Lelie grew up as tall and straight as a 
poplar, and as beautiful as any orange-tree in the 
royal conservatory of Brussels ; and how pleasant 
to Wi'helra to watch her growth and opening 



WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDER. 215 

loveliness ; but lie could hardly define the happi- 
ness that thrilled him, when the truth dawned 
upon his observant spirit that she w^as like unto 
him in her ways. Every little delicate kindness 
that ever this lame knife-grinder had shown to 
this poor outcast, she strove by some spiritual 
impulse to reciprocate; she loved him with a 
strong and passionate earnestess that he knew 
not of; and every smile he gave her, every happy 
word he spoke, fell on her heart like heavenly 
music; and it was because of the refined and 
delicate manners which she observed in him, and 
which she so assiduously strove to imitate, that 
she loved him. Wilhelm had never hinted at the 
link which bound him and Lelie together; she 
was old enough when he found her to know that 
he was no relation of hers ; and she had so dis- 
tinct a remembrance of the vice amongst which 
she had dwelt, that the gentle words which Wil- 
helm constantly spoke, and the little prayers and 
hymns which he taught her to repeat, gave her at 
first a dim idea of maternal care, and then of 
human goodness, which she was constrained to 
love and venerate, and to which she had some 
indefinite affinity ; but she had no sense of cha- 
rity, no feeling of dependence, for Wilhelm had 
consulted her about every little household act^ 
and had so identified her with himself in all he 
said or did, that she, too, had no thought of doing 
anything beyond the knowledge of "orr Wil- 
helm." 



216 MEN WHO HAVE BISEN. 

Lelie would go out of the afternoons to meet her 
modest protector at some appointed place, and the 
knife-grinder looked so happy and so brave, and 
Lelie looked so beautiful and smiling, that the 
great folks began to take notice of the cheerful 
pair, and to declare that that knife-grinder and his 
pretty sister deserved to be encouraged. And so 
Wilhelm was encouraged ; for, when he opened 
his cutler shop in the Place de Ville, customers 
came pouring on him, and, assuredly, Lelie had a 
busy time of it serving them. Dinner sets of 
knives and forks for the quiet, calculating dames, 
who were queens in their way, for each ruled a 
home; long black scalpels for physicians; large 
carvers for keepers of cook-shops ; primers and 
hedgebills for agriculturists ; and hooks and scythes 
for reapers ; together with penknives for students 
of law and divinity ; these constituted part of the 
stock of Wilhelm Voss, and these were the class 
of his ready-money, constant customers. 

In twelve years from his finding Lelie, Wilhelm 
was a man of standing and importance amongst 
the guildry of Brussels. He was esteemed wise, 
and good, and rich, which last was, perhaps, the 
most important consideration of the whole in the 
eyes of some. But he esteemed himself especially 
blessed of heaven in Lelie, and she was the chief 
of all his earthly treasures. And what a treasure 
of grace, and beauty, and affection, had that 
young child become ! It was a picture far finer 
than any of the paintings in the city gallery, and 



217 

the finest of Flemish paintings were there ; it was 
a finer sight than them all to behold Lelie seated 
behind the counter of Wilhelm's well-filled shop, 
on the fine simmer afternoons, when the sunbeams 
streamed through the little panes, and fell upon 
her fine ruddy cheeks, smooth brown hair, and blue 
eyes, as she bent thoughtfully over a book, or 
wrought away with her needle. Wilhelm, grown 
a thoughtful man, with a dignified air that became 
him wonderfully well, would stand and gaze upon 
the maiden from his back workshop, and bless her 
from his heart ; and then he would wonder if any 
one could envy him of this jewel of his home. 
Was it envy, or that most selfish of all the pas- 
sions, sometimes misnamed love, that prompted 
Hitter Van Ostt, the skinner, to come so often to 
the shop of Mynheer Voss? He was a great 
gallant, Hitter, who was ambitious of illumining 
the world; for, like many other people whose 
money had accumulated in their coffers, he, with 
great modesty, and, no doubt, truth, felt assured 
that his intellect had brightened and expanded 
too ; and if there had been an election for pri- 
marius of the University of Ghent or Louvain, 
and it had been left to Ritter to choose the fittest 
person to fill the academical chair, he would not 
have required to leave his bed to find such a 
person. He came to the shop of Wilhem day 
after day, finely done up in velvet and linen, with 
his beaver stuck up a little at the side to give it a 
rakish air, and his cloak hung carelessly unon one 



218 MEN WHO HAYE KISEN. 

shoulder, in cavalier fashion. He was a very 
large specimen of the human frame, and he spoke 
very loudly and authoritatively upon everything 
and even nothing, and few in Brussels thought 
themselves so high and killing as Hitter Van 
Ostt. 

Brussels is a fine city. There is the Park, with 
its fine broad gravel walks, and its old green 
shady walnut-trees ; and then there is the Botanic 
Garden, with its orange grove as old as the Prince 
of Orange himself; and there are galleries, and 
museums, and many other sights, all agreeable to 
look upon and profitable to contemplate. Hitter 
Van Ostt would ask Lelie Voss to accompany 
him to all these places, and Lelie, who had been 
at them all already with Wilhelm, would refuse, 
and declare that she had sufficiently seen them ; 
and then Ritter would appeal to Wilhelm, who, 
remembering how happy she had been with him, 
would urge her to go for her own sake, but always 
in such tones that Lelie would still refuse three 
times out of five. And what was it that stirred 
Wilhelm Voss when Lelie would reluctantly go 
with Ritter ? Was it the old sensation of his 
poor and lonely years — his sense of friendlessness 
that came back upon him ? It was a strange 
vague feeling — a dread of nothingness, that stole 
over his heart as if to extinguish it. Ah, if Lelie 
were to leave him now ! and then the tears would 
rush into his manly eyes, and Wilhelm knew that 
he loved her. It is a truth, and an almost uni- 



WILHELM, THE KNIFE-GRINDER. 2l9 



versal one, that the strongest and most beautiful 
minds feel most sensitively the oppression of cor- 
poral infirmities. Wilhelm was lame, and he 
knew that Lelie was surpassing beautiful. He 
was only twelve years her senior, and he had 
known, loved, and tended her longer than any 
other mortal had ; but though he had deemed 
himself fit to be a father and instructor to Lelie, 
he was convinced that she would hardly reckon 
him a fit companion to brighten and sustain her 
life — a worthy object to whom she might apply 
the name of husband. 

" Ah, well, Wilhelm, I shall tell Myneer Van 
Ostt to walk by himself henceforth," said Lelie, 
gravely, as she threw off her cloak and hood after 
one of her walks. " I am done with him." 

" And why, dear Lelie ? " said Wilhelm. 

"For various weighty reasons," said Lelie, 
smiling, " but chiefly on my own account." 

" And how on your own account ? " said Wil- 
helm, earnestly. 

"Lest I should fall in love with so stupid a 
creature," said Lelie, laughing; "and then, you 
know, according to your theory, I should become 
like him." 

Wilhelm was silent for a few moments, and 
then he said, " So you would prefer some other 
companion to Ritter, Lelie ? " 

"Ay, that I would, to all the Hitters in the 
Netherlands. Do you think, my own Wilhelm, 
that I am happy when I am in the gardens with 



220 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

Van Ostt ? Ah, if you do, how mistaken you 
are ! " 

Wilhelm was troubled, and then quietly said, 
" Ritter Van Ostt. is a man of substance and of 
honest fame " 

" Oh, fame ! " cried Lelie, interrupting him ; 
"that he blows forth most lustily himself; they 
should put a trumpet in his hand when they erect 
his statue on the top of the Town-House." 

" I have asked you to go with Ritter merely 
because I thought it would be pleasant for you to 
gee the green trees, and to inhale the fragrance of 
the flowers." 

"Then you should come with us if you wish 
them to be beautiful in themselves or agreeable to 
me," said Lelie, with charming naivete. 

Wilhelm looked at his portege in amazement, 
and then a sweet smile overspread his face, as he 
replied, " And so you prefer to talk to Wilhelm 
and to walk with him, although he is not the finest 
talker or walker in Belgium." 

" This hearth is the brightest spot I know or 
have ever known on earth," said Lelie, in low, 
tremulous, earnest tones. " This face is the hand 
somest to me in the world," she continued, as she 
leant upon Wilhelm's breast and spread back the 
dark curls from his brow. " These lips have ever 
been the sweetest exponents of wisdom and good- 
ness that I have known. Ah, Wilhelm, Wilhelm! 
what should poor Lelie do if you were to bid her 
leave you ? " 



221 

The knife-grinder caught the earnest tearful 
girl in his arms, and he gazed into her face. Was 
he dreaming? Was this some passing illusion 
too bright to last ? Ah ! no ; for truth in its in- 
tegrity and purity was reflected in her eyes. 
Through the vista of a few years he saw himself a 
poor and ragged youth, friendless and almost 
spiritless, plodding the streets of his native city 
for the precarious bread derived from a precarious 
calling. He saw a little girl thrown in his path 
even more friendless and wretched than he. The 
political economist who draws conclusions only 
after casual reflections and with arithmetical pre- 
cision, would inevitably have seen in the adoption 
of this child by Wilhelm an addition to his misery; 
but, by a law which political economists and 
philosophers have never been able to write down, 
the blessing had come with the burden. A good 
deed more than rewards itself; the deed is but 
the action of a moment ; the reward begins on 
earth, and goes on increasing through eternity. 
From a drooping, almost satisfied, son of poverty, 
Wilhelm, by the stirring of the nobler impulses 
of his nature, had grown slowly and gradually 
into a refined and honored man ; and Lelie, from 
beggar and an outcast, had been trained into 
beauty, goodness, and virtue. 

" Well, Wilhelm, I consider it but right as a 
matter of courtesy, and what not ? " said Ritter. 
Ritter always finished his sentences with the words, 
" and what not." " I consider it right," said he, 



c 222 MEN WHO HAVE KISEtf. 

iC to let you know that it is time Lelie was mar- 
ried." 

" I was thinking so myself," said Wilhelm, as 
he leant over his counter, and smiled in the face 
of Van Ostt. 

" And I consider it but right to let you know 
that I mean to have her, which, I daresay, will be 
as agreeable to you as to her, and what not ?" 
said Hitter, cocking up his beaver and swelling 
out his cheeks. 

" As agreeable to the one as to the other, doubt- 
less," replied Wilhelm, quietly. 

" You are a man of substance, Voss," said the 
skinner, looking more important than ever he had 
done, " and it is to be hoped that you will be 
liberal to the girl." 

" I have never laid past a stiver but her share 
was in it," said Wilhelm, seriously; she shall 
have my all when she marries." 

" I always said that you was a good fellow, and 
a liberal fellow, and what not?" said Hitter, 
grasping Wilhelm's hand, and slapping him on 
the shoulder with the other. " Odds Bobs, man, 
how glad we shall be to see thee in the evenings !" 

"I shall keep at home in the evenings as 
hitherto," replied the knife-grinder, with a merry 
twinkle in his eye; "my wife shall feel lonely 
without me else." 

" Your wife ! " said Ritter, staring at Wilhelm ; 
" who is she ? when is it to be ? and what not ? " 

"Why, Lelie has her wedding garments to 



WILHELM, THE KXIFiL-G-RINDEK. 223 

make, and what not ? " said Wilhelm, laughing 
outright ; " but whenever she says the word, I am 
ready." 

" Lelie ! you ! " cried Ritter in amazement, aa 
he looked at Wilhelm, and then, strutting up and 
down the shop, looked first at his limbs, and then 
at the cloth of his doublet. "Well, who ever 
heard of the like ? » 

" Ay, ay, Ritter, and so you envied me of my 
little girl, did you ? " said Wilhelm, smiling ; " she 
wouldn't have you, though, although you were 
twice as large and rich as you are. I shall take 
care and give thee a bidding, however, to our 
wedding." 

Wilhelm and Lelie Voss were the father and 
mother of honest burghers, and of burghers' lovely 
wives. Everybody loved them who knew them, 
and their children almost adored them ; but there 
was a class of children who had reason, above all 
others, to bless their name, and to rejoice that 
prosperity had not made them forget their own 
early days. The poor and outcast children of 
humanity, who roamed the streets in rags, were 
ever recognized by Wilhelm as brethren in soul 
and suffering ; and the little girls who trembled 
on the verge of youthful purity and irreclaimable 
vice, were sisters to the bosom of Madame Lelie. 
Holy, purifying suffering ! which, like the crucible 
of clay that is continent of gold, refines while it 
burns, how many have passed through thy ordeal 
preparatory to a mission of love and benificence ! 



224 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

Who so active as "Wilhelm in founding the 
Foundling Hospital of Brussels ? and who so care- 
ful in tending the school for orphans as Lelie ? 
And Wilhelm and Lelie had meaus and time, too, 
to attend to these things ; for hr« became burgo- 
master of all the crafts, and rich to boot, and lived 
at last in the Park where he once limped about, 
a poor itinerant knife-grinder. 



THE STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S 
EARLY DAYS. 

Hugh Miller was born at Cromarty, in 1802. 
His ancestors were a race of adventurous and 
skillful sailors, who had coasted the Scottish shores 
as early as the days of Sir Andrew Wood and 
the bold Barton. His great grandsire, one of the 
last of the buccaneers that sailed the Spanish Main, 
had invested a portion of his surplus doubloons hi 
the long, low cottage where the subject of our 
sketch first drew breath. To avoid the hereditary 
fate of the family — which, in its male members, 
had, during many generations, nearly all perished 
at sea — Hugh Miller's, grandmother consigned his 
father to the care of an aunt married to a neigh- 
boring farmer. But an agricultural life was not 
his destiny. The boy was sent to drown a litter 
of puppies ; his young heart relenting, he found 
the task impossible, and towards gloaming wan- 
dered home to his mother with the doomed qua- 
drupeds tucked up in his kilt. " Mother," said the 
15 



226 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

boy, in reply to a maternal ejaculation of surprise, 
" I couldna drown the little doggies, mother ! and 
I brought them to you." The youth who " couldna 
drown the doggies " afterwards did very effective 
execution upon the Dutch off the " Dogger Bank." 
in the memorable naval action of the name. 

Retiring from the service of his country— into 
which, indeed, he had been pressed without his 
consent — the next glimpse we have of Hugh 
Miller's father, he is master of a craft that sails 
from his native Cromarty. For a time fortune 
smiles upon the hardy tar; but, while sunning him- 
self in success, he was doomed to feel how quickly 
adversity sometimes follows upon the heels of for- 
tune. Early in November, 1797, Miller's sloop, 
which for some days had lain wind-bound in the 
port of Peterhead, left its moorings and bore out 
to sea. The breeze which had lured the craft 
from her haven speedily freshened into a gale, the 
gale into a hurricane, and his bark, the Friendship, 
is next morning in splinters on the bar of Findhorn. 
By the assistance of a friend, the money required 
to purchase a new sloop was provided, and soon a 
vessel nearly equal to the old is once more the 
property of the sailor. 

Ten years pass away ; it is again November; and 
again Miller's sloop — not now wind-bound as be- 
fore, but compelled by the gale — seeks shelter in 
Peterhead. The tempest seems abated, and on 
the 10th of the ill-fated month, Miller has left the 
harbor of refuge. Soon a storm arose, more ter- 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 227 

rible than the storm in which the Friendship 
went to pieces. All that skill and seamanship 
could do was done ; but the night fell wild and 
tempestuous, and no vestige of the hapless sloop 
or ill-starred mariner was ever more seen. On the 
9th November, Hugh Miller's father's last letter 
was addressed to his family. It had been received 
in the humble dwelling at Peterhead as only the 
letters of the sailor are received. But the night 
after the reception of the farewell epistle, the 
house door, which had been left unfastened, fell 
open. Hugh Miller, then just turned five years, 
is dispatched to shut it. Of what follows, it is 
perhaps well that the man should tell the recollec- 
tions of the boy. " Day* had not wholly disap- 
peared, but it was fast posting into night. Within 
less than a yard of my breast, as plainly as I ever 
saw anything, was a dissevered hand and arm 
stretched towards me. Hand and arm were ap- 
parently those of a female ; they bore a livid 
and sodden appearance ; and directly fronting me, 
where the body ought to have been, there was 
only blank, transparent space, through which I 
could see the dim forms of the objects beyond. 
I was fearfully startled, and ran shrieking to my 
mother, telling her what I had seen. I communi- 
cated the story," continues Hugh Miller, " as it lies 
fixed in my memory, without attempting to ex- 
plain it ; " and w^e shall best respect the memory 
of the dead by leaving the apparition as its nar- 
rator has left it, unexplained.. But whatevei 



228 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

doubt might be entertained about the reality of 
the vision, there could be none about the loss the 
boy had sustained. Long after hope had died in 
every breast save his own, was little Miller seen 
looking wistfully out from the grassy protuber 
ance of the old coast line above his mother's house, 
into the Moray Frith, for the sloop with the white 
stripes and the square top-sails, but sloop nor sire 
never came again. In opening manhood Hugh 
Miller embalmed in verse the record of the catas- 
trophe which beclouded "life's young day" with 
this great sorrow ; but the boy of five years, day 
by day, and month after month, mounting that 
grassy knoll, intent only on discovering, amid 
" the yeast of waves," the bark which has borne 
his father from him never to return, is a nobler 
poem than any " a journeyman stone-mason " 
wrote. 

The death of a father so keenly mourned, was 
in some measure compensated by his two materna' 
uncles — types of a class of men that, from age t< 
age, have been the glory of the peasantry of Scot 
land. In his " Schools and Schoolmasters," th 
subject of our sketch has paid a generous and 
affecting tribute to this pair of noble brothers 
Uncle James was a harness-maker — and wrought 
for the farmers of an extensive district of country 
— a keen local antiquary, and possessed of an as- 
tonishing store of traditionary lore. Ever just in 
his own dealings, he regarded every species of 
meanness with thorough contempt. Uncle Alex- 



STORY OF HUGH MILLEft's EARLY DAYS. 229 

ander was characterized by the same strict integ- 
rity, though of a somewhat different cast from his 
brother, both in intellect and temperament. An 
old sailor, he had served under Duncan at Cam- 
perdown, taken part in the campaign under Aber- 
crombie in Egypt, and by his descriptions of foreign 
plants and animals, had kindled in his nephew his 
own special tastes. Uncle Sandy, in point of fact, 
was Hugh Miller's professor of natural history. 
Before his father's death, young Miller had been 
sent to a " dame school," and, under the tuition of 
an old lady, he got through the Shorter Catechism, 
the Proverbs, the New Testament, and at length 
entered the Bible class. At first his tasks proved 
irksome in the extreme ; but so soon as Hugh 
Miller discovered that in the art of reading con- 
sisted the art of finding stories in books, all the 
drudgery was over. After this discovery, his pro- 
gress, which had hitherto been nothing extraordi- 
nary, accelerated in something like a geometric 
ratio. The stories of Joseph, of Samson, of David, 
of Goliath, of Elijah and Elisha, were all speedily 
mastered. Prom these Hebrew worthies, he turned 
to the classical romances of childhood — " Jack the 
Giant Killer," " Jack and the Bean Stalk," " Blue 
Beard," " Sinbad the Sailor," " Beauty and the 
Beast," "Aladdin, or the Wonderful Lamp." 
From these he passed, without any conscious line 
of division, to the " Odyssey " of old Homer, 
and from the " Odyssey " turned to that mar- 
velous production of the Tinker of Elstow, — the 



230 MEN WHO HAYE JRISEN. 

" Pilgrim's Progress." Subsequently, " Howie's 
Scots Worthies," "Napthali, or the Hind let 
Loose," " The Cloud of Witnesses," &c., were 
made his own. About this time, also, it was that 
Hugh Miller's " Uncle James " put into his hands 
"Blind Harry's Wallace." When the boy had 
read how Wallace killed young Selbi/3 the con- 
stable's son, how Wallace had fished the Irvine 
water, and how Wallace killed the churl with his 
own staff in Ayr, his uncle with a dash of the dry 
humor that makes a joke effective, said to him, as 
the book seemed a rather rough sort of production, 
he need read no more of it unless he liked. But 
young Miller rather did like to read of Wallace. 
The fiery narrative of the blind bard intoxicated 
his young heart; all he had previously read or 
heard of battles seemed tame in comparison with 
the deeds of Scotland's hero guardian. 

After some twelve months' instruction in the 
dame school, young Miller was transierred to the 
grammar school of Cromarty. Its master was a 
good scholar, but by no means an energetic in- 
structor. If a boy wished to learn he could teach 
him, but if a boy wished to do nothing, he was not 
required to do more than he wished. Meeting 
one day with Uncle James, he urged the harness- 
maker to put his nephew into Latin. The recom- 
mendation of the master possessing a sort of pre- 
established harmony with the ideas of the uncle, 
Hugh Miller was transferred from the English to 
the Latin form. In the Latin class, however, ho 



STORY OF HUGH MILLEe's EAULY DAYS. 231 

appears to have forgotten his axiom about the art 
of reading. " The Rudiments " was to him by far 
the dullest book he ever read, and it was not long 
before he began miserably to flag, and to long for 
his English reading, with its J)icture-like descrip- 
tions and its amusing stories. 

A few of the wealthier inhabitants of Cromarty, 
irritated with the small progress of their sons under 
the care of the parish teacher, got up a subscrip- 
tion school, to which they transferred their chil- 
dren. Uncle James, sharing the general impatience, 
sent his protege thither likewise. The teacher of 
the subscription school was rather a clever young 
man, considerably smarter than the parish dominie, 
to whom the pleasures of sitting still seemed supe- 
rior to all other pleasures. But unfortunately the 
master of the new academy soon proved quite as 
unsteady as he was clever. Having got rid of 
him, a licentiate of the Church of Scotland was 
procured. For a time this second teacher prom- 
ised well, but, getting immersed in a special 
theological controversy, he ultimately resigned his 
charge. A third teacher was got, but unluckily 
he also soon gave up in despair. Young Miller's 
opportunities for exploring Cromarty and its en- 
virons were, in consequence of these mishaps, 
quite as great as ever. His recollections of excur 
sions made into the interior at this early period, 
partially lift the veil which now, during fifty years 
has been falling over the antique customs of nor 
thern society. 



232 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

"The Cromarty Sutors have their two lines of 
caves — an ancient line, hollowed by the waves 
many centuries ago, when the* sea stood, in rela- 
tion to the land, from fifteen to thirty feet higher 
along our shores than it does now ; and a modern 
line, which the surf is still engaged in scooping 
out. Many of the older caves are lined with sta- 
lactites, deposited by springs that, filtering through 
the cracks and fissures of the gneiss, find lime 
enough in their passage to acquire what is known as 
a petrifying^ though, in reality, only an in crusting 
quality. And these stalactites, under the name 
of ' white stones made by the water,' formed of 
old — as in that Cave of Slains specially mentioned 
by Buchanan and the Chroniclers, and in those 
caverns of the Peak so quaintly described by Cot- 
ton — one of the grand marvels of the place. Al- 
most all the old gazetteers sufficiently copious in 
their details to mention Cromarty at all, refer to 
its ' Dropping Cave ' as a marvelous marvel-pro- 
ducing cavern ; and this ' Dropping Cave ' is but 
one of many that look out upon the sea from the 
precipices of the Southern Sutor, hi whose dark 
recesses the drops ever tinkle, and the stony ceil- 
ings ever grow. The wonder could not have been 
deemed a great or very rare one by a man like the 
late Sir George Mackenzie of Coul, well known 
■from his Ravels in Iceland, and his experiments 
on the inflammability of the diamond ; but it so 
happened, that Sir George, curious to see the sort 
of stones to which the old gazetteers referred, made 



STORY OF HUGH MILLEr's EARLY DAYS. 233 

application to the minister of the parish for a set of 
specimens ; and the minister straightway deputed the 
commission, which he believed to be not a difficult 
one, to one of his poorer parishioners, an old nailer, 
as a means of putting a few shillings in his way. 

" It so happened, however, that the nailer had 
lost his wife by a sad accident, only a few w^eeks 
before ; and the story went abroad that the poor 
woman was, as the townspeople expressed it, c com- 
ing back.' She had been very suddenly hurried out 
of the world. When going down the quay, after 
nightfall one evening, with a parcel of clean linen 
for a sailor, her relative, she had missed footing on 
the pier-edge, and, half-brained, half-drowned, had 
been found in the morning, stone dead, at the 
bottom of the harbor. And now, as if pressed 
by some unsettled business, she used to be seen, it 
was said, hovering after nightfall about her old 
dwelling, or sauntering along the neighboring 
street ; nay, there were occasions, according to the 
general report, in which she had even exchanged 
words with some of her neighbors, little to their 
satisfaction. The words, however, seemed in every 
instance to have wonderfully little to do with the 
affairs of another world. I remember seeing the 
wife of a neighbor rush into my mother's one 
evening, about this time, speechless with terror, and 
declare, after an awful pause, during which she 
had lain half-fainting in a chair, that she had just 
seen Christy. She had been engaged, as the 
night was falling, but ere darkness had quite set 



234: MEN WHO HAYE R1SEK. 

hi, in piling up a load of brushwood for fuel out- 
side her door, when up started the spectre on the 
other side of the heap, attired in the ordinary work- 
day garb of the deceased, and, in a light and hur- 
ried tone, asked, as Christy might have done ere 
the fatal accident, for a share of the brushwood. 
' Give me some of that hagf said the ghost ; c you 
have plenty — I have none.' It was not known 
whether or no the nailer had seen the apparition, 
but it was pretty certain he believed in it ; and as 
the ' Dropping Cave ' is both dark and solitary, 
and had forty years ago a bad name to boot — for 
the mermaid had been observed disporting in front 
of it even at mid-day, and lights seen and screams 
heard from it at nights — it must have been a 
rather formidable place to a man living in the mo- 
mentary expectation of a visit from a dead wife. 
So far as could be ascertained — for the nailer him- 
self was rather close in the matter — he had not 
entered the cave at all. He seemed, judging from 
the marks of scraping left along the sides for about 
two or three feet from the narrow opening, to have 
taken his stand outside, where the light was good, 
and the way of retreat clear, and to have raked 
outwards to him, as far as he could reach, all that 
stuck to the walls, including ropy slime and mouldy 
damp, but not one particle of stalactite. It was, 
of course, seen that his specimens would not suit 
Sir George ; and the minister, in the extremity of 
the case, applied to my uncles, though with some 
little unwillingness, as it was known that no remu- 



STORY OF HUGH MILLERS EAKLY DAYS. 235 

n<3ration for their trouble could be offered to them. 
My uncles were, however, delighted with the com- 
mission — it was all for the benefit of science ; and, 
providing themselves with torches and a hammer, 
they set out for the caves. And I, of course, ac- 
companied them — a very happy boy, armed, like 
themselves, with hammer and torch, and prepared 
devotedly to labor in behalf of science and Sir 
George. 

" I had never before seen the caves by torch-light; 
and though what I now witnessed did not quite 
come up to what I had read regarding the Grotto 
of Antiparos, or even the wonders of the Peak, it 
was unquestionably both strange and fine. The 
celebrated Dropping Cave proved inferior — as is 
not unfrequently the case with the celebrated — to 
a cave almost entirely unknown, which opened 
among the rocks a little further to the east ; and 
yet even it had its interest. It widened, as one 
entered, into a twilight chamber, green with velvety 
mosses, that love the damp and the shade ; and 
terminated in a range of crystalline wells, fed by 
the perpetual dropping, and hollowed in what 
seemed an a^ tar-piece of the deposited marble. 
And above and along the sides there depended 
many a draped fold, and hung many a translucent 
icicle. The other cave, however, we found to be 
of much greater extent, and of more varied char- 
acter. It is one of three caves of the old coast- 
line, known as the Dovecot or Pigeon Caves, which 
open upon a piece of rocky beach, overhung by a 



236 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

rudely semicircular range of gloomy precipices, 
the points of the semicircle project on either side 
into deep water — into at least water so much 
deeper than the fall of ordinary neaps, that it is 
only during" the ebb of stream tides that the place 
is accessible by land ; and in each of these bold 
promontories — the terminal horns of the crescent 
— there is a cave of the present coast-line, deeply 
hollowed, in which the sea stands from ten to 
twelve feet in depth when the tide is at full, and 
in which the surf thunders, when gales blow hard 
from the stormy north-east, with the roar of whole 
parks of artillery. The cave in the western prom- 
ontory, which bears among the townsfolk the 
name of the ' Puir Wife's Meal Kist,' has its roof 
drilled by two small perforations, the largest of 
them not a great deal wider than the blow-hole of 
a porpoise, that open externally among the cliffs 
above ; and when, during storms from the sea, the 
huge waves come rolling ashore like green moving 
walls, there are certain times of the tide in which 
they shut up the mouth of the cave, and so com- 
press the air within, that it rushes upwards through 
the openings, roaring in its escape as if ten whales 
were blowing at once, and rises from amid the 
crags overhead in two white jets of vapor, dis- 
tinctly visible to the height of from sixty to eighty 
feet. If there be critics who have deemed it one 
of the extravagances of Goethe that he should 
have given life and motion, as in his famous witch- 
scene in 'Faust,' to the Hartz crags, they would 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER S E^RLY DAYS. 237 

do well to visit this bold headland during some 
winter tempest from the east, and find his descrip- 
tion perfectly sober and true : 

" * See the giant crags, oh ho ! 

How they snort and how they blow/ 

"Within, at the bottom of the crescent, and 
where the tide never reaches when at the fullest, 
we found the large pigeon cave, which we had 
come to explore, hollowed for about a hundred and 
fifty feet in the line of a fault. There runs across 
the opening the broken remains of a wall erected 
by some monopolizing proprietor of the neighbor- 
ing lands., with the intention of appropriating to 
himself the pigeons of the cavern ; but his day 
had, even at this time, been long gone by, and the 
wall had sunk into a ruin. As we advanced, the 
cave caught the echoes of our footsteps, and a flock 
of pigeons, startled from their nests, came whiz- 
zing out, almost brushing us with their wings. 
The damp floor sounded hollow to the tread ; we 
saw the green mossy sides, which close in the un- 
certain light, more than twenty leet overhead, 
furrowed by ridges of stalactites, that became 
whiter and purer as they retired from the vege- 
tative influences ; and marked that the last plant 
which appeared, as we wended our way inwards, 
was a minute green moss, about half an inch in 
length, which slanted outwards on the prominences 
of the sides, and overlay myriads of similar sprigs 
of moss, long before converted into stone, but 
which, faithful in death to the ruling law of then 



238 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

lives, still pointed, like the others, to the free air 
and the light. And then, in the deeper recesses 
of the cave, where the floor becomes covered with 
uneven sheets of stalagmite, and where long spear- 
like icicles and drapery-like foldings, pure as the 
marble of the sculptor descend from above or 
hang pendent over the sides, we found in abun- 
dance magnificent specimens for Sir George. The 
entire expedition was one of wondrous interest; and 
I returned next day to school, big with description 
and narrative, to excite, by truths more marvel- 
ous than fiction, the curiosity of my class-fellows. 
" I had previously introduced them to the marvels 
of the hill ; and during our Saturday half-holidays, 
some of them had accompanied me in my excur- 
sions to it. But it had failed, somehow, to catch 
their fancy. It was too solitary, and too far from 
home, and, as a scene of amusement, not at all 
equal to the town-links, where they could play at 
c shinty,' and ' French and English,' almost within 
hail of their parents' homesteads. The very tract 
along its flat, moory summit, over which, accord- 
ing to tradition, Wallace had once driven before 
him, in headlong route, a strong body of English, 
and which was actually mottled with sepulchral 
tumuli, still visible amid the heath, failed in any 
marked degree to engage them ; and though they 
liked w r ell enough to hear about the caves, they 
seemed to have no very great desire to see them. 
There was, however, one little fellow, who sat at 
the Latin form — the member of a class lower and 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 239 

brighter than the heavy one, though it was not 
particularly bright neither — who differed in this 
respect from all the others. Though he was my 
junior by about a twelvemonth,* and shorter by 
about half a head, he was a diligent boy in even 
the. Grammar School, in which boys were so rarely 
diligent, and, for his years, a thoroughly sensible 
one, without a grain of the dreamer in his com- 
position. I succeeded, however, notwithstanding 
his sobriety, in infecting him thoroughly with my 
peculiar tastes, and learned to love him very much, 
partly because he doubled my amusements by 
sharing in them, and partly, I daresay, on the 
principle on which Mahomet preferred his old wife 
to his young one, because ' he believed in me.' 
Devoted to him as Caliban in the ' Tempest ' to his 
friend Trinculo, 

" ' I showed him the best springs, I plucked him hemes, 
And I with my long nails did dig him pig-nuts.' 

" His curiosity on this occasion was largely excited 
by my description of the Doocot Cave ; and, set- 
ting out one morning to explore its wonders, armed 
with John Feddes's hammer, in the benefits of 
which my friend was permitted liberally to share, 
we failed, for that day at least, in finding our way 
back. 

"It was on a pleasant spring morning that, with 
my little curious friend beside me, I stood on the 
beach opposite the eastern promontory, that, with 
its stern, granitic wall, bars access for ten days out 



240 MEN WHO HATE RISEN, 

of every fourteen to the wonders of the Doocot ; 
and saw it stretching provokingly out into the 
green water. It was hard to be disappointed and 
the caves so near. The tide was a low neap, and 
if we wanted a passage dry-shod, it behoved us to 
wait for at least a week; but neither of us under- 
stood the philosophy of neap tides at the period. 
I was quite sure I had got round at low water, 
with my uncles, not a great many days before, 
and we both inferred, that if we but succeeded in 
getting round now, it would be quite a pleasure 
to wait among the caves inside until such time as 
the fall of the tide should lay bare a passage for 
our return. A narrow and broken shelf runs along 
the promontory, on which, by the assistance of the 
naked toe and the toe-nail, it is just possible to 
creep. We succeeded in scrambling up to it ; and 
then, crawling outwards on all-fours — the preci- 
pice, as we proceeded, beetling more and more 
formidable from above, and the water becoming 
greener and deeper below — we reached the outer 
point of the promontory ; and then doubling the 
cape on a still narrowing margin — the water, by 
a reverse process, becoming shallower and less 
green as we advanced inwards — we found the 
ledge terminating just where, after clearing the 
sea, it overhung the gravelly beach at an elevation 
of nearly ten feet. Adown we both dropped, 
proud of our success; up splashed the rattling 
gravel as we fell ; and for at least the whole com- 
ing week — though we were unaware of the extent 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER 7 S EARLY DAYS. 241 

of our good luck at the time — the marvels of the 
Doocot Cave might be regarded as solely and ex- 
clusively our own. For one short seven days — to 
borrow emphasis from the phraseology of Carlyle — 
1 they Avere our own, and no- other man's.' 

" The first few hours were hours of sheer enjoy- 
ment. The larger cave proved a mine of marvels; 
and we found a great deal additional to wonder at 
on the slopes beneath the precipices, and along 
the piece of rocky sea-beach in front. We suc- 
ceeded in discovering for ourselves, in creeping, 
dwarf bushes, that told of the blighting influence 
of the sea-spray; the pale yellow honey-suckle 
that we had never seen before, save in gardens 
and shrubberies; and on a deeply-shaded slope 
that leaned against one of the steeper precipices, 
we detected the sweet-scented woodroof of the 
flower-pot and parterre, with its pretty verticillate 
leaves that become the more odoriferous the more, 
they are crushed, and its white delicate flowers. 
There, too, immediately in the opening of the 
deeper cave, where a small stream came pattering 
in detached drops from the over-beetling precipice 
above, like the first drops of a heavy thunder- 
shower, we found the hot, bitter scurvy grass, 
with its minute cruciform flowers, which the great 
Captain Cook had used in his voyages ; above all, 
there were the caves with their pigeons — white, 
variegated, and blue — and their mysterious and 
gloomy depths, in which plants hardened into 
stone, and water became marble. In a short time 
16 



24:2 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

Ave had broken off with our hammer whole poeket- 
fuls of stalactites and petrified moss. There were 
little pools at the side of the cave, where we could 
see the work of congelation going on, as at the 
commencement of an October frost, when the cold 
north wind ruffles, and but barely ruffles, the sur- 
face of some mountain lochan or sluggish moorland 
stream, and shows the newly-formed needles ot 
ice projecting mole-like from the shores into the 
water. So rapid was the course of deposition, 
that there were cases in which the sides of the 
hollows seemed growing almost in proportion as 
the water rose in them ; the springs, lipping over, 
deposited their minute crystals on the edges ; and 
the reservoirs deepened and became more capaci- 
ous as their mounds were built up by this curious 
masonry. The long telescopic prospect of the 
sparkling sea, as viewed from the inner extremity 
of the cavern, while all around was dark as mid. 
night — the sudden gleam of the sea-gull, seen for 
a moment from the recess, as it flitted past in the 
sunshine — the black heaving bulk of the grampus, 
as it threw up its slender jets of spray, and then, 
turning downwards, displayed its glossy back and 
vast angular fin — even the pigeons, as they shot 
whizzing by, one moment scarce visible in the 
gloom, the next, radiant in the light — all acquired 
a new interest, from the peculiarity of the setting 
in which we saw them. They formed a series oi 
sun-gilt vignettes, framed in jet; and it was long 
ere we tired of seeing and admiring in them much 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER^ EARLY DAYS. 24? 

of the strange and the beautiful. It did seem 
rather ominous, however, and perhaps somewhat 
supernatural to boot, that about an hour aftei 
noon, the tide, while there was yet a full fathom 
of water beneath the brow of the promontory, 
ceased to fall, and then, after a quarter of an 
hour's space, began actually to creep upwards on 
the beach. But just hoping that there might be 
some mistake in the matter, which the evening 
tide would scarce fail to rectify, we continued to 
amuse ourselves, and to hope on. Hour after 
hour passed, lengthening as the shadows length- 
ened, and yet the tide still rose. The sun had 
sunk behind the precipices, and all was gloom 
along their bases, and double gloom in their caves ; 
but their rugged brows still caught the red glare 
of evening. The flush rose higher and higher, 
chased by the shadows ; and then, after lingering 
for a moment on their crests of honey-suckle and 
juniper, passed away, and the whole became som- 
bre and gray. The sea-gull sprang upwards from 
where he had floated on the ripple, and hied him 
slowely away to his lodge in his deep-sea stack ; 
the dusky cormorant flitted past, with heavier and 
more frequent stroke, to his whitened shelf high 
on the precipice; the pigeons came whizzing 
downwards from the uplands and the opposite 
land, and disappeared amid the gloom of their 
caves; every creature that had wings made use 
of them in speeding homewards ; but neither my 
companion nor myself had any; and there was no 



2M MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

possibility of getting home without them. We 
made desperate efforts to scale the precipices, and 
on two several occasions succeeded in reaching 
mid-way shelves among the crags, where the 
sparrowhawk and the raven build ; but though w e 
had climbed well enough to render our return a 
matter of bare possibility, there was no possibility 
whatever of getting further up: the cliffs had 
never been scaled before, and they were not des- 
tined to be scaled now. And so, as the twilight 
deepened, and the precarious footing became every 
moment more doubtful and precarious still, we 
had just to give up in despair. ' Wouldn't care 
for myself^ said the poor little fellow, my compan- 
ion, bursting into tears, c if it were not for my 
mother ; but what will my mother say ? 9 
' Wouldn't care neither,' said I, with a heavy heart ; 
'but it's just back water, we'll get out at twall.' 
We retreated together into one of the shallower 
and drier caves, and, clearing a little spot of its 
rough stones, and then groping along the rocks 
for the dry grass that in the spring season hangs 
from them hi withered tufts, we formed for our- 
selves a most uncomfortable bed, and lay down in 
one another's arms. For the last few hours moun- 
tainous piles of clouds had been rising dark and 
stormy in the sea-mouth : they had flared porten- 
tously in the setting sun, and had worn, with the 
decline of evening, almost every meteoric tint of 
anger, from fiery red to a sombre thundrous brown, 
and from sombre brown to doleful black. And 



STOKY OF HUGH MILLERS EAJRLY DAYS. 245 

we could now at least hear what they portended, 
though we could no longer see. The rising wind 
began to howl mournfully amid the cliffs, and the 
sea, hitherto so silent, to beat heavily against the 
shore, and to boom, like distress-guns, from the 
recesses of the two deep-sea caves. We could 
hear, too, the beating rain, now heavier, now 
lighter, as the gusts swelled or sank ; and the in- 
termittent patter of the streamlet over the deeper 
cave, now driving against the precipices, now de- 
scending heavily on the stones. 

" My companion had only the real evils of the 
oase to deal with, and so, the hardness of our bed 
and the coldness of the night considered, he slept 
tolerably well ; but I was unlucky enough to have 
evils greatly worse than the real ones to annoy me. 
The corpse of a drowned seaman had been found 
on the beach about a month previous, some forty 
yards from where we lay. The hands and feet, 
miserably contracted and corrugated into deep 
folds at every joint, yet swollen to twice their 
proper size, had been bleached as white as pieces 
of alumed sheep-skin ; and where the head should 
have been, there existed only a sad mass of rub- 
bish. I had examined the body, as young people 
are apt to do, a great deal too curiously for my 
peace; and, though I had never done the poor 
nameless seaman any harm, I could not have suf- 
fered more from him during that melancholy night 
had I been his murderer. Sleeping or waking, he 
was continually before me. Every time I dropped 



24, MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

intw a coze, he would come stalking up the beach 
froni the spot where he had lain, with his stiff 
white fingers, that stuck out like eagles' toes, and 
his pale broken pulp of a head, and attempt strik- 
ing me ; and then I would awaken with a start, 
cling to my companion, and remember that the 
drowiied sailor had lain festering among the iden- 
tical bunches of sea-weed that still rotted on the 
beach not a stone-cast away. The near neighbor- 
hood of a score of living bandits would have 
inspired less horror than the recollection of that 
one dead seaman. 

"Towards midnight the sky cleared and the 
wind fell, and the moon, in her last quarter, rose 
red as a mass of heated iron out of the sea. We 
crept down, in the uncertain light, over the rough 
slippery crags, to ascertain whether the tide had 
not fallen sufficiently far to yield us a passage ; 
but we found the waves chafing among the rocks 
just where the tide-line had rested twelve hours 
before, and a full fathom of sea enclasping the 
base of the promontory. A glimmering idea of 
the real nature of our situation at length crossed 
my mind. It was not imprisonment for a tide to 
which we had consigned ourselves ; it was impris- 
onment for a week. There was little comfort in 
the thought, arising, as it did, amid the chills and 
terrors of a dreary midnight ; and I looked wist- 
fully on the sea as our only path of escape. There 
was a vessel crossing the wake of the moon at the 
time, scarce half a mile from the shore ; and, as- 




YOUNG 1JUGII MILLER IN THE (AVI.. 
«'Ther« was a vessel crossing Hie wake of the moon at the time, (-curve half a mile from the 
shore ; and, assisted by my companion, 1 began to shout at the top of my lungs, in the hope ot h^ing 
heard by the sailors." — Page -213. 



STORY OF HUGH MILLEr's EARLY DAYS. 247 

sisted by my companion, I began to shout at the 
top of my lungs, in the hope of being heard by 
the sailors. We saw her dim bulk falling slowly 
athwart the red glittering belt of light that had 
rendered her visible, and then disappearing in the 
murky blackness ; and just as we lost sight of her 
forever, we could hear an indistinct sound mingling 
with the dash of the waves — the shout, in reply, 
of the startled helmsmen. The vessel, as we 
afterwards, learned, was a large stone-lighter, 
deeply laden, and unfurnished with a boat ; nor 
were her crew at all sure that it would have been 
safe to attend to the midnight voice from amid 
the rocks, even had they the means of communi- 
cation with the shore. We waited on and on, 
however, now shouting by turns, and now shout- 
ing together ; but there was no second reply ; and 
at length, losing hope, we groped our way back 
to our comfortless bed, just as the tide had again 
turned on the beach, and the waves began to roll 
upwards higher and higher at every dash. 

" As the moon rose and brightened, the dead 
seaman became less troublesome ; and I had suc- 
ceeded in dropping as soundly asleep as my com- 
panion, when we were both aroused by a loud 
ehout. We started up, and again crept down- 
wards among the crags to the shore ; and as we 
reached the sea, the shout was repeated. It was 
that of at least a dozen harsh voices united. There 
was a brief pause followed by another shout ; and 
then two boats, strongly manned, shot round the 



248 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN". 

western promontory, and the men, resting on their 
oars, turned towards the rock, and shouted yet 
again. The whole town had been alarmed by the 
intelligence that two little boys had straggled 
away in the morning to the rocks of the Southern 
Sutor, and had not found their way back. The 
precipices had been from time immemorial a scene 
of frightful accidents, and it was at once inferred 
that one other sad accident had been added to the 
number. True, there were cases remembered of 
people having been tide-bound in the Doocot 
Caves, and not much the worse in consequence ; 
but as the caves were inaccessible during neaps, 
we could not, it was said, possibly be in them ; 
and the sole remaining ground of hope was, that, 
as had happened once before, only one of the two 
had been killed, and that the survivor was linger- 
ing among the rocks, afraid to come home. And 
in this belief, when the moon rose and the surf 
fell, the two boats had been fitted out. It was 
late in the morning ere we reached Cromarty, but 
a crowd on the beach awaited our arrival ; and 
there were anxious-looking lights glancing in the 
windows, thick and manifold ; nay, such was the 
interest elicited, that some enormously bad verse, 
in which the writer described the incident a few 
days after, became popular enough to be handed 
about in manuscript, and read at tea-parties, by 
the elite of the town. Poor old Miss Bond, who 
kept the town boarding-school, got the piece nicely 
dressed up, somewhat upon the principle on which 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER^ EARLY DAYS. 249 

Macpherson translated Ossian; and at her first 
school examination — proud and happy day for the 
author ! — it was recited with vast applause, by one 
of her prettiest young ladies, before the assembled 
taste and fashion of Cromarty." 

About this period, schoolmaster number four is 
appointed to the Cromarty subscription academy. 
The new master appeared, to his more advanced 
pupils, a combination of the coxcomb and the 
pedant. It will not surprise readers in possession 
of this information, to learn that the subject of 
our sketch (through life as little as possible of either 
pedant or coxcomb) did not long keep on the most 
amicable terms with the new teacher. A fight 
arose out of some dispute about spelling, which so 
soon as finished, Miller takes down his cap from 
the pin, and bids the pedagogue good-bye, having 
got about as little benefit from his half-dozen pre- 
ceptors as probably ever did any man of equal 
eminence. 

Hugh Miller is now nearly seventeen years of 
age : the period has arrived when he must decide 
what shall be the business of his life. His uncles 
had expected to see their nephew attaining emi- 
nence in some of the learned professions. Their 
labor was their only capital, yet they would gladly 
ftave assisted him in getting to college. But to all 
their entreaties he pertinaciously demurred. He 
thought himself destitute of any peculiar fitness for 
either the legal or the medical professions, and the 
church was too serious a direction in which to look 



250 MEN WHO HATE KISEN. 

for his bread, unless he could regard himself as 
called to the church's proper work. With extreme 
reluctance Hugh Miller's uncles resigned their 
nephew to a life of manual labor. Consent, how- 
ever, was at length wrung from them, and their 
protege, whom they would gladly have sent to the 
university, becomes a mason's apprentice, and may 
be seen arrayed, not in the gown of the scholar, 
but in a suit of moleskins, and a pair of heavy hob- 
nailed shoes. Unwilling that labor should wield 
over him a rod entirely black, the profession of a 
mason was chosen by Hugh Miller, in the hope 
that in the amusement of one half the year, he 
should find compensation for the toils of the other 
half. Just turned seventeen, Miller enters the 
quarry of Cromarty, the mason's of his native place 
combining both occupations. Now he is about to 
reap the first fruits of his prolonged excursions 
with Uncle Sandy. The quarry was an upper 
member of that formation known to geologists as 
the Lower Old Red Sandstone, and here Hugh 
Miller soon discovered the same phenomena he 
had witnessed on the sea-beach, when laid bare by 
the ebb tides. His own description of the scenes 
and circumstances in which his first day of toil was 
passed is highly fascinating : 

" A heap of loose fragments which had fallen 
from above, blocked up the face of the quarry, and 
my first employment was to clear them away. 
The friction of the shovel soon blistered my hands, 
but the pain was by no means very severe, and I 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER^ EARLY DAYS. 251 

wrought hard and willingly, that I might see how 
the huge strata below, which presented so firm 
and unbroken a frontage, were to be torn up and 
removed. Picks, and wedges, and levers, were 
applied by my brother- workmen ; and simple and 
rude as I had been accustomed to regard these 
implements, I found I had much to learn in the 
way of using them. They all proved inefficient, 
however, and the workmen had to bore into 
one of the inferior strata, and employ gunpowder. 
The process was new to me, and I deemed it a 
highly amusing one ; it had the merit, too, of 
being attended with some such degree of danger 
as a boating or rock excursion, and had thus an 
interest independent of its novelty. We had a 
few capital shots : the fragments flew in every 
direction; and an immense mass of the diluvium 
came toppling down, bearing with it two dead 
birds, that in a recent storm had crept into one 01 
the deeper fissures, to die in the shelter. I felt a 
new interest in examining them. The one was a 
pretty cock-goldfinch, with its hood of vermilion, 
and its wings inlaid with the gold to which it owes 
its name, as unsoiled and smooth as if it had been 
preserved for a museum. The other, a somewhat 
rarer bird, of the woodpecker tribe, was variegated 
with light-blue and a grayish-yellow. I was engaged 
in admiring the poor little things, more disposed to 
be sentimental, perhaps, than if I had been ten 
years older, and thinking of the contrast between 
the warmth and jollity of theii green summer 



252 MEN WHO HAVE RISEW. 

haunts, and the cold and darkness of theii last re- 
treat, when I heard our employer bidding the 
workmen lay by their tools. I looked up and sa^v 
the sun sinking behind the thick fir wood beside us, 
and the long dark shadows of the trees stretching 
downwards towards the shore. 

" This was no very formidable beginning of the 
course of life I had so much dreaded. To be sure, 
my hands were a little sore, and I felt nearly as 
much fatigued as if I had been climbing among 
the rocks ; but I had wrought and been useful, 
and had yet enjoyed the day fully as much as 
usual. It was no small matter, too, that the even- 
ing, converted, by a rare transmutation, into the 
delicious c blink of rest' which Burns so truth- 
fully describes, was all my own. I was as light 
of heart next morning as any of my brother-work- 
men. There had been a smart frost during the 
night, and the rime lay white on the grass as we 
passed onwards through the fields ; but the sun 
rose in a clear atmosphere, and the day mel- 
lowed, as it advanced, into one of those delightful 
days of early spring, which give so pleasing an 
earnest of whatever is mild and genial in the bet- 
ter half of the year. All the workmen rested at 
mid-day, and I went to enjoy my half-hour alone 
on a mossy knoll in the neighboring wood, which 
commands through the trees a wide prospect ot 
the bay and the opposite shore. There was not a 
wrinkle on the water, nor a cloud in the sky, and 
the branches were as moveless in the calm as if 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER^ EARLY DAYS. 253 

they had been traced on canvas. From a wooded 
promontory that stretched half-way across the frith, 
there ascended a thin column of smoke. It rose 
straight as the line of a plummet for more than a 
thousand yards, and then on reaching a thinner 
Stratum of air, spread out equally on every side, 
like the foliage of a stately tree. Ben Wyvis rose 
to the west, white with the yet unwasted snows 
of winter, and as sharply denned in the clear at- 
mosphere as if all its sunny slopes and blue retir- 
ing hollows had been chiseled in marble. A line 
of snow ran along the opposite hills ; all above 
was white, and all below was purple. They 
reminded me of the pretty French story, in which 
an old artist is described as tasking the ingenuity 
of his future son-in-law, by giving him as a subject 
for his pencil a flower-piece composed of only white 
flowers, of which the one half were to bear their 
proper color, the other half a deep purple hue, 
and yet all to be perfectly natural ; and how the 
young man resolved to riddle and gained his 
mistress, by introducing a transparent purple vase 
into the picture, and making the light pass through 
it on the flowers that were drooping over the edge. 
I returned to the quarry, convinced that a very ex- 
quisite pleasure may be a very cheap one, and that 
the busiest employments may afford leisure enough 
to enjoy it. 

" The gunpowder had loosened a large mass in 
one of the inferior strata, and our first employment, 
on resuming our labors, was to raise it from its 



254: MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

bed. I assisted the other workmen in placing it 
on edge, and was much struck by the appearance 
of the platform on which it rested. The entire 
surface was ridged and furrowed like a bank of 
sand that had been left by the tide on hour before. 
I could trace every bend and curvature, every cross 
hollow and counter ridge of the corresponding phe- 
nomena; for the resemblance was no half resem- 
blance — it was the thing itself; and I had observed 
it a hundred and a hundred times, when sailing my 
little schooner in the shallows left by the ebb. 
But what had become of the waves that had thus 
fretted the solid rock, or of what element had 
they been composed? I felt as completely at 
fault as Robinson Crusoe did on his discovering 
the print of a man's foot on the sand. The even- 
ing furnished me with still further cause of won- 
der. We raised another block in a different part 
of the quarry, and found that the area of a circular 
depression in the stratum below was broken and 
flawed in every direction, as if it had been the 
bottom of a pool recently dried up, which had 
shrunk and split in the hardening. Several large 
stones came rolling down from the diluvium in 
the course of the afternoon. They were of differ- 
ent qualities from the sandstone below, and 
from one another ; and, what was more wonderful 
still, they were ail rounded and water- worn, as ii 
they had been tossed about in the sea, or the bed 
of a river, for h mdreds of years. There could 
not, surely, be a nice conclusive proof that thf- 



ST0KY OF HUGH MILLERS EARLY DAYS. 255 

bank which had inclosed them so long could not 
have been created on the rock on which it rested. 
No workman ever manufactures a half-worn article, 
and the stones were all half-worn ! And if not 
the bank, why then the sandstone underneath ? I 
was lost in conjecture, and found I had food 
enough for thought that evening, without once 
thinking of the unhappmess of a life of labor." 

He had entered the school of labor with the 
timidity of the yet undeveloped mind that shrinks 
from grappling with the stern realities of life; 
but surrounded with images of grandeur, of 
beauty, and of liberty, on every side, the spirit 
of the future geologist shook off the shrinking 
and timidity with which it had been oppressed, 
and the remembrance of those early days of toil 
dictated that noble apostrophe to labor, with 
which he has adorned his "Schools and School- 
masters :" " Upright, self-relying toil ! Who 
that knows thy solid worth and value would be 
ashamed of thy hard hands and thy soiled vest- 
ments, and thy obscure tasks — thy humble cot- 
tage, and hard couch, and homely fare ! Save for 
thee and thy lessons, man in society would every- 
where sink into a sad compound of the fiend and 
the wild beast, and this Mien world would be as 
certainly a moral as a natural wilderness." 

Though the dreaded proved imaginary, never- 
theless some real evils followed his entrance upon 
a life of toil. The seeds of that mysterious com- 
bination of physical and mental disease which, 



256 :,:.::; who have risen. 

some forty years afterwards, did its work in so very 
terrible a manner, were sown in the quarry of 
Cromarty. Wandering pains in the joints, an 
oppressive feeling about the chest, frequent fits of 
extreme depression of spirits, and inability to pro 
tect himself against accident, are noted as suffered 
by Hugh Miller during the first months of his ap- 
prenticeship. And if to these we add partial fits 
of somnambulism, of which he was also at this 
time the victim, we shall not be far wrong in con- 
cluding that the calamity which laid him low, was 
a calamity he had long silently combated. Retir- 
ing from the over-wrought quarries of Cromarty, 
Hugh Miller crossed the Moray Frith, and began 
work in a uew field. Here, by the lull of Eathie, 
he discovered a liassic deposit, so amazingly rich 
in organisms, that the great Alexandrian library, 
with its tomes of ancient literature, the accumula- 
tion of lonu^ ages, was but a meagre collection in 
comparison. The working season of the mason is 
now over, and the next three months are Hugh 
Miller's exclusive property. In the company of a 
cousin he makes a Highland tour — visits his 
cousin's father-in-law in the upper district Oi 
Strathcarron. The road to the shieling of this 
aged shepherd lay through an uninhabited valley 
strewed with the ruins of fallen cottages, in other 
days the roof-trees of the best swordsmen in Ross. 
Returned from his excursion into the interior, 
Hugh Miller formed, or rather we should say re- 
newed, acquaintance with an apprentice house- 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 257 

painter in Cromarty. William Ross was a lad of 
genius, but diffident and melancholy, with a fine 
eye and keen relish for the beautiful and sublime, 
but the joy with which the contemplation of nature 
inspired his soul was overcast by the conscious- 
ness that soon her raptures would be for other 
eyes than his. Many a moonlight walk the two 
friends took together, visiting at nightfall the 
glades of the surrounding woods, and listening to 
the moaning winds sweeping sullenly along the 
pines. But now winter is past, and moonlight 
walks and moody reveries must have an end for a 
time. Spring has come again, and again Hugh 
Miller girds himself for the active duties of the 
stone-cutter. Before midsummer, however, work 
has failed his master, and the squad is thrown out 
of employment. Uncle David, during twenty-five 
years an employer of labor, is compelled to be- 
come a journeyman. The old man, after consider- 
able effort, at length found " a brother of the earth 
to give him leave to toil." Hugh Miller, too loyal 
to abandon his master in the hour of adversity, 
was first brought by this misfortune into contact 
with the bothy system, then only in its infancy, 
but now unhappily diffused over a large area of 
Scotland. Bothy life, it might have been supposed, 
was not likely to bring the subject of our narrative 
into contact with anything save the riotous glee 
and practical joking of the barrack, but it was not 
so. From reason's earliest dawn until reason was 
no more, Hugh Miller was ever encompassed with 
17 



258 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

much of the wild and supernatural. On the even- 
ing of the first day passed in this new school, he 
had repaired to a hay-loft, the only place of shelter 
he could find. Exhausted nature found its needed 
repose on a heap of straw. But, unaccustomed to 
so rough a couch, he awoke at midnight, and was 
looking out from a small window upon a dreary 
moor, a ruinous chapel, and a solitary burying- 
ground. Suddenly a light flickered among the 
grave-stones, and what seemed a continuous 
screaming was heard from among the tombs. 
Quitting the churchyard, the light crossed the 
moor in a straight line, tossed with many a wave 
and flourish. In a moment the servant girls of 
the mansion-house came rushing out in undress, 
summoning the workmen to their assistance. Mad 
Bell had broke out again. As the masons ap- 
peared at the door, they were joined by the solitary 
watcher from the loft. It was, however, soon dis- 
covered that the maniac was already in custody. 
Two men were dragging her to her own cottage. 
On entering her hut, they proceeded to bind her 
down to the damp earth. Hugh Miller and a 
comrade successfully remonstrated — the maniac 
was not bound. Mad Bell's song ceased for a 
moment, and, turning a keen, scrutinizing glance 
upon the youths who had spoken good for her, 
she emphatically repeated the sacred text, " Blessed 
are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy." 

Hugh Miller had just turned twenty-one, when, 
work failing in the north, he bade adieu to 



STORY OF HUGH MILLEr's EARLY DAYS. 259 

northern scenes and northern friends, and sailed 
from his native town, ambitious to mate himself 
with the stone-cutters of the metropolis, then re- 
puted the best stone-cutters in the world. After 
a four days' voyage he landed at Leith, and from 
Leith proceeded to Edinburgh. While sauntering 
along Princes Street, admiring the picturesque 
views with which the Scottish capital so abounds, 
he is laid hold of by a slim pale lad in moleskins. 
It was William Ross ; and during what remained 
of that night the two friends explored the city 
together. Hugh Miller found work in the vicinity 
of Niddry Mill ; and beneath the shade of Niddry 
Wood it was that he first became practically ac- 
quainted with combinations. A reduction of 
wages had produced a strike. Hugh did not be- 
lieve in strikes, and predicted that the one in 
which they had become involved would be a 
failure. The leader of the squad more than half 
admitted he was right. But to that reckless dare- 
devil Charles, or Cha, as his comrades called him, 
the excitement of a monster meeting on Brunts- 
field Links outweighed the dictates of prudence. 
So the masons marched away to the gathering 
on the Links. The outdoor meeting over, a low 
tavern in Canongate received the heroes from 
Nicldry. They were to meet again in the evening, 
in one of the halls of Edinburgh, but in the tavern 
they grew deaf to time, and oblivious of all con- 
nected with the strike. Hugh Miller, leaving his 
companions to their revel, passed the night with 



260 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

his friend William Ross. William took a warm 
interest in strikes, and entertained quite as san- 
guine hopes about the happy influence of the prin- 
ciple of union upon the British proletair as the 
most ardent of French Socialists. But though 
the two friends could not agree in their opinions 
upon trades combinations or the value of strikes, 
in the tastes and sympathies shared in common 
these differences were forgotten. 

The following graphic sketch of " poor Charles," 
who figures as leader in the strike, shows in a very 
forcible manner how talents of no mean order are 
frequently shipwrecked : " No man of the party 
squandered his gains more recklessly than Charles, 
or had looser notions regarding the legitimacy of 
the uses to which he too often applied them. 
And yet, notwithstanding, he was a generous- 
hearted fellow; and, under the influence of reli- 
gious principle, would, like Burns himself, have 
made a very noble man. In gradually forming 
my acquaintance with him, I was at first struck by 
the circumstance that he never joined in the 
clumsy ridicule with which I used to be assailed 
by the other workmen. When left, too, on one 
occasion, in consequence of a tacit combination 
against me, to roll up a large stone to the sort of 
block bench, or siege, as it is technically termed, 
on which the mass had to be hewn, and as I 
was slowly succeeding in doing, through dint of 
very violent effort, what some two or three men 
usually united to do, Charles stepped out to assist 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER^ EARLY DAYS. 261 

me; and the combination at once broke down. 
Unlike the others, too, who, while they never 
scrupled to take odds against me, seemed suffi- 
ciently chary of coming in contact with me singly, 
he learned to seek me out in our intervals of 
labor, and to converse upon subjects upon which 
we felt a common interest. He was not only an 
excellent operative mechanic, but possessed also 
of considerable architectural skill ; and in this 
special province we found an interchange of idea 
not unprofitable. He had a turn, too, for reading, 
though he was by no means extensively read ; and 
liked to converse about books. Nor, though the 
faculty had been but little cultivated, was he de- 
void of an eye for the curious in nature. On 
directing his attention, one morning, to a well- 
marked impression of lepidodendron, which deli- 
cately fretted with its lozenge-shaped net-work 
one of the planes of the stone before me, he began 
to describe, with a minuteness of observation not 
common among working men, certain strange 
forms which had attracted his notice when em- 
ployed among the gray flagstones of Forfarshire. 
I long after recognized in his description that 
strange crustacean of the Middle Old Red Sand- 
stone of Scotland, the Pterygotus — an organism 
which was wholly unknown at this time to geolo- 
gists, and which is but partially known still ; and I 
saw in 1838, on the publication, in its first edition, 
of the c Elements ' of Sir Charles Lyell, what he 
meant to indicate by a rude sketch which he drew 



262 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

on the stone before us, and which, to the base of 
a semi-elipsis somewhat resembling a horse-shoe, 
united an angular prolongation not very unlike 
the iron stem of a pointing trowel drawn from the 
handle. He had evidently seen, long ere it had 
been detected by the scientific eye, that strange 
ichthyolite of the Old Red system, the Cejohalaspis. 
His story, though he used to tell it with great 
humor, and no little dramatic effect, was in 
reality a very sad one. He had quarreled, when 
quite a lad, with one of his fellow-workmen, and 
was unfortunate enough, in the pugilistic encounter 
which followed, to break his jaw-bone, and other- 
wise so severely to injure him, that for some time 
his recovery seemed doubtful. Flying, pursued 
by the officers of the law, he was, after a few 
days' hiding, apprehended, lodged in jail, tried at 
the High Court of Justiciary, and ultimately sen- 
tenced to three months' imprisonment. And 
these three months he had to spend — for such was 
the wretched arrangement of the time — in the 
worst society in the world. In sketching, as he 
sometimes did, for the general amusement, the 
characters of the various prisoners with whom he 
had associated — from the sneaking pick-pocket 
and the murderous ruffian, to the simple Highland 
smuggler, who had converted his grain into 
whisky, with scarce intelligence enough to see 
that there was aught morally wrong in the trans- 
action — he sought only to be as graphic and 
humorous as he could, and always with complete 



STORY OF HUGH MILLEk's EARLY DAYS. 263 

success. But there attached to his narratives an 
unintentional moral ; and I cannot yet call them 
up without feeling indignant at that detestable 
practice of promiscuous imprisonment which so 
long obtained in our country, and which had the 
effect of converting its jails into such complete 
criminal-manufacturing institutions, that, had the 
honest men of the community risen and dealt by 
them as the Lord-George-Gordon mob dealt with 
Newgate, I hardly think they would have been 
acting out of character. Poor Charles had a 
nobility in his nature which saved him from being 
contaminated by what was worst in his meaner 
associates ; but he was none the better for his 
imprisonment, and he quitted jail, of course, a 
marked man ; and his after career was, I fear, all 
the more reckless in consequence of the stain im- 
parted at this time to his character. He was as 
decidedly a leader among his brother workmen as 
I myself had been, when sowing my wild oats, 
among my school-fellows ; but society in its 
settled state, and in a country such as ours, allows 
no such scope to the man as it does to the boy ; 
and so his leadership, dangerous both to himself 
and his associates, had chiefly, as the scene of its 
trophies, the grosser and more lawless haunts of 
vice and dissipation. His course through life 
was a sad, and, I fear, a brief one. When that 
sudden crash in the commercial world took place, 
in which the speculation mania of 1824-25 ter- 
minated, he was, with thousands more, thrown 



264 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN". 

out of employment ; and, having saved not a 
farthing of his earnings, he was compelled, under 
the pressure of actual want, to enlist as a soldier 
nto one of the regiments of the line, bound for one 
of the intertropical colonies. And there, as his old 
comrades lost all trace of him, he too probably fell 
a victim, in an insalubrious climate, to old habits 
and new rum." 

With bitter grief, Hugh Miller discovered that 
his early companion, William Ross, was fast losing 
confidence in his own powers — the shadow of the 
cypress shed its sadness into his soul. In reply to 
an effort to rally him, with characteristic modesty 
he exclaimed : " Ah, Miller ! what matters it about 
me? You have stamina in you, and will force your 
way, but I want strength ; the world will never 
hear of me." The prophecy was all too surely and 
too swiftly realized. But a little while, and that 
thin, pale, fair-haired, flat-chested, stooping figure, 
already a drooping and withered flower, has quietly 
dropped into the grave, and his one friend on earth 
sighs for " the touch of a vanished hand, and the 
sound of a voice that is still." 

When Hugh Miller was working as an operat- 
ive mason at Niddry, not London itself was the 
centre of a greater literary activity than the Scot- 
tish capital. Yet, though living in the light of 
that galaxy of genius which then shed so great a 
lustre over Scotland, he was never fortunate 
enough to catch a glimpse of either Jeffrey or 
Wilson. Dugald Stewart or Sir Walter Scott. 



STORY OF HUGH MILLERS EARLY DAYS. 265 

His personal recollections dating from this period 
(with the single exception of the historian of Knox 
and Melville) embrace none of the celebrities ot 
the metropolis. When leaving Cromarty, the 
last injunction of his uncle was, "Be sure and 
visit Dr. M'Crie's Church when in Edinburgh." 
The precept was obeyed. Much has since been 
said and written about Thomas M'Crie, but the 
most impressive picture of that thin, spare, semi- 
military, semi-ecclesiastical figure, with an air of 
melancholy spreading its soft shadow upon his 
countenance, has been painted by Hugh Miller. 

After about a couple of years of labor in Edin- 
burgh, the subject of our narrative felt premoni- 
tions of that disease of the lungs and chest which 
has made the stone-cutters of the metropolis a 
short-lived race. To recruit his exhausted ener- 
gies, he resolved to revisit his birthplace; and 
after a somewhat tedious voyage, he again sets 
foot on the beach of his native town. On his 
return to Cromarty, Hugh Miller found an old 
companion, one of a band he had long led in days 
of youthful frolic, relinquishing superior com- 
mercial prospects for the work of the ministry ; 
and to the influence of this reunion and disin- 
terested example did he trace it that now religion's 
tranquil star shed over his soul its selectest in- 
fluence. For some months after his return to 
Cromarty, he continued in delicate and indifferent 
health. Not a moment too soon had he made his 
escape from the stone-cutter's malady. When 
12 



266 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

health was again somewhat established, he set 
about executing sculptured tablets and tombstones 
— a kind of work in which he excelled. But a 
sufficiency of this species of employment not being 
found in Cromarty, he visited Inverness. Her 
his skill as a stone-cutter received the promptest 
recognition; and while his days were given to 
toil, his nights were employed in preparing a 
volume of poetry for the press. The volume of 
verse did little else for his fame than bring him 
into contact with Mr. Carruthers, editor of the 
Inverness Courier. Mr. Carruthers introduced 
him to the late Principal Baird, and, at his 
suggestion, that most delightful of all Hugh 
Miller's works, his " Schools and Schoolmasters," 
was planned and written. About this time, also, 
it was he made the acquaintance of the late Sir 
Thomas Dick Lauder. He likewise, now, became 
known to certain young ladies, and especially to 
Miss Lydia Mackenzie Frazer. 

A branch of the Commercial Bank having been 
opened in Cromarty, Hugh Miller was appointed 
accountant. To gain the necessary experience, 
he was sent to one of the branches of the Com- 
mercial at Linlithgow. At first he was a little 
awkward in his new vocation, but, having mastered 
the central princple, around which the details 
grouped themselves, he suddenly shot up into an 
accomplished accountant. During the first year 
of his accountantship, " Scenes and Legends of 
the North of Scotland " appeared, wherein he says: 



STORY OF HUGH MILLBr's EARLY DAYS. 267 

— "There is no personage of real life who can be 
more properly regarded as a hermit of the church- 
yard than the itinerant sculptor, who wanders from 
one country burying-ground to another, recording 
on his tablets of stone the tears of the living and 
the worth of the dead. If possessed of a common 
portion of feeling and imagination, he cannot fail 
of deeming his profession a school of benevolence 
and poetry. For my own part, I have seldom 
thrown aside the hammer and trowel of the stone- 
mason for the chisel of the itinerant sculptor, with- 
out receiving some fresh confirmation of the opinion. 
How often have I suffered my mallet to rest on 
the unfinished epitaph, when listening to some 
friend of the buried expatiating with all the 
eloquence of grief on the mysterious warning and 
the sad death-bed — on the worth that had departed, 
and the sorrow that remained behind! How often, 
forgetting that I was merely an auditor, have I so 
identified myself with the mourner, as to feel my 
heart swell and my eyes becoming moist! Even 
the very aspect of a solitary churchyard seems 
conducive to habits of thought and feeling. I 
have risen from my employment to mark the 
shadow of tombstone and burial mound creeping 
over the sward at my feet, and have been rendered 
serious by the reflection, that as those gnomons of 
the dead marked out no line of hours, though the 
hours passed as the shadows moved, so, in that 
eternity in which even the dead exist, there is a 
nameless tide of continuity, but no division of 



268 



MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 



time. I have become sad, when, looking on the 
green mounds around me, I have regarded them 
as waves of triumph whieh time and death had 
rolled over the wreck of man; and the feeling has 
been deepened, when, looking down with the eye 
of imagination through this motionless sea of 
graves, I have marked the sad remains of both 
the long departed and the recent dead, thickly 
strewed over the bottom. I have grieved above 
the half-soiled shroud of her for whom the tears of 
bereavement had not yet been dried up, and sighed 
over the mouldering bones of him whose very 
name had long since perished from the earth." 

During the second year of his accountantship, 
Lydia Mackenzie Fraser became Mrs. Miller; and 
in order to supplement his income, whieh did not . 
now look quite so large as once it would have 
done, the bank accountant began to write for the 
periodicals. u Wilson's Tales of the Borders," and, 
subsequently, " Chambers's Edinburgh Journal," 
were enriched witli frequent contributions from 
his pen. The period had, however, now come 
when Hugh Miller was to be drawn aside from 
the serene walks of literature and science, into the 
stormy arena of ecclesiastical polemics. The great 
Non-intrusion controversy was at its height. The 
House of Lords had decided the Auchterarder 
case. A sleepless night passed by Mr. Miller 
after learning that decision resulted in " A Letter 
from one of the Scotch People to the Right Hon. 
Lord Brougham." This brochure was no sooner 



STORY OF HUGH MILLEr's EARLY DAYS. 269 

published, than it was pronounced one of the 
ablest appeals from the jpopular side of the Church 
which the controversy had produced. Its racy 
English was enjoyed by O'Connell, and even Mr. 
Gladstone pronounced a fervid eulogium on its 
surpassing merits. Stimulated at once by his own 
intense interest in the question, and by the notice 
his first pamphlet attracted, a second, quite equal 
to the first, was quickly ready. These pamphlets 
were his passports to the position he was about to 
be called to occupy in Edinburgh. 

The Non-intrusion leaders were in quest of an 
editor for a paper they were about to start in 
the metropolis ; and no sooner had one of the most 
distinguished of them read those rare tractates 
than with characteristic promptitude he exclaimed, 
" Here is the man for our Witness." A letter to 
the bank accountant was dispatched from Edin- 
burgh, summoning him to a conference with the 
leading Non-intrusionists ; Hugh Miller repaired 
to the Scottish capital, accepted the editorship of 
the projected journal, and terminated his engage- 
ment with the Commercial Bank. Thus it came 
to pass, that he who in early life felt no call to 
become a minister of the Church, now, in the 
maturity of his power, voluntarily assumes the 
onerous position of defender of the Church's most 
sacred spiritual privileges. It is no purpose of 
this sketch to enter upon the discussion of vexed 
questions in Church controversy ; we are ready to 
acknowledge that widely different opinions may 



270 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

be formed upon the justness of the principles for 
which Hugh Miller contended, and to the advo- 
cacy of which the Witness was devoted. There 
can, however, be only one" opinion respecting the 
great and peculiar ability which he brought to the 
defense and vindication of the principles of his 
party. Nor, while remembering and recording 
this fact, must it be forgotten that the Witness 
newspaper has ever been something very different 
from a merely ecclesiastical organ. Hugh Miller 
brought to his editorial labors a mind imbued 
with the noblest literature of England. His per. 
feet familiarity with the great masters of English 
prose gave to all his works that charm of style for 
which they are so remarkable. In the literature 
of the Scottish Legend, he rivaled Hogg ; and as 
a geologist, he at once took his place beside the 
Bucklands and the Murchisons, the Sedgwicks 
and the Lyells. From all these varied sources he 
drew at will treasures new and old, wherewith to 
enrich the columns of the journal with which, for 
the last sixteen years of his life, his name was 
identified. If there were brother editors his 
superiors in that prompt concentration of mental 
power which enables the journalist to write well 
upon the topic of the hour, we know no journalist, 
either Scottish or English, who has furnished a 
series of leading articles, on nearly every conceiv- 
able topic within the range of newsjDaper criticism, 
so distinguished at once by imaginative, logical, 
and high literary power. By turns humorous, 



STOKY OF HUGH MILLER^ EARLY DAYS. 271 

satirical, and poetical, ever instructive and ever 
entertaining, the stamp of intense individuality is 
upon them all. Latterly, under a benevolent im- 
pulse, he took the field as a lecturer. On his first 
appearance in this new capacity, his chairman 
was the Duke of Argyle — a nobleman who, ever 
since Mr. Miller's introduction to the British 
Association, cherished for him the highest con- 
sideration. Like Burns, who, casting from him 
the poor sixpence a-day, served zealously as a 
volunteer, whatever oral services he could render 
his countrymen were rendered gratuitously. At 
length, however, this continuous and multifarious 
toil proved too much. Even with prolonged periods 
of nearly complete cessation from the labors of 
the journalist, he did not rally as formerly. He 
had been forbidden all mental exertion by his 
medical advisers during the latter months of 1856 ; 
but " The Testimony of the Rocks " kept him in 
harness until the middle of December. The last 
sheets of the work had been corrected, and its 
author had begun to rejoice in his completed toil, 
when the same enemy that so mysteriously pros- 
trated the stripling in the quarry of Cromarty, 
menaced the sage with seven-fold fury. In dreams 
and visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth 
upon men, horrible spectres haunt his pillow — 
reason reels — he feels as if ridden by witches, and 
rises from his couch more wearied than he lay 
down. These painful and ominous symptoms in- 
duced Mrs. Miller to request the kind friend , whose 



272 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

professional attentions are so touchingly alluded to 
in the dedication of " The Testimony of the Rocks," 
to visit her husband. The visit of the genial and 
accomplished Professor exerted the happiest in- 
fluence, and the evening was spent quietly with 
his family. During tea, Mr. Miller read aloud 
Cowper's "Castaway," and the sonnet to Mary 
Unwin. A little while afterwards he went up 
stairs to his study. At the appointed hour he 
took the bath his medical adviser recommended, 
but the medicine prescribed he did not take. 
Next morning Ids body was found lying lifeless on 
the floor — the feet upon the study rug — the chest 
pierced with the ball of a revolver, which had 
fallen into the bath by his side. On looking 
round the room, a folio sheet of paper was dis- 
covered on the table, and on the centre of the 
page the following lines were written : 

u Dearest Lydia : — My brain burns. I must 
have loalked, and a fearful dream rises upon me. 
I cannot bear the horrible thought. God and 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy upon 
me ! Dearest Lydia, dear children, farewell. My 
brain bu-Tns as the recollection grows. My dear 
wife, farewell. Hugh Miller." 

u O life, as futile then as frail — 

O for thy voice to soothe and bless ! 
What hope of answer or redress 

Behind the veil, behind the veil ? v 

In awe and mystery we stand by the grave of 
genius, thus suddenly disappearing from the scene 



STOBY OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 273 

Ox its triumphs, rather disposed to meditate in 
silence than read aloud the lessons to be learned 
there. Mr. Miller's concluding words in " The 
Story of my Education" convey, however, the most 
appropriate lesson which could be given in such 
a volume as this. He says : " In looking back 
upon my youth, I see, methinks, a wild fruit tree, 
rich in leaf and blossom; and it is mortifying 
enough to mark how very few of the blossoms 
have set, and how diminutive and • imperfectly 
formed the fruit is into which even the productive 
few have been developed. A right use of the 
opportunities of instruction afforded me in early 
youth would have made me a scholar ere my 
twenty-fifth year, and have saved to me at least ten 
of the best years of life — years which were spent 
in obscure and humble occupations. But while 
my story must serve to show the evils which re- 
sult from truant carelessness in boyhood, and that 
what was sport to the young lad may assume the 
form of serious misfortune to the man, it may also 
serve to show that much may be done by after 
diligence, to retrieve an early error of this kind — 
that life itself is a school, and nature always a 
fresh study — and that the man who keeps his 
eyes and his mind open will always find fitting, 
though, it may be, hard schoolmasters, to speed 
him on in his life-long education." 

And now, before closing this brief narrative, the 
reader will perhaps pardon us for interposing a cor- 
rection of a mischievous misreading of that lesson 



274 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

which has, in some quarters, obtained currency. 
Hugh Miller, it is said, fell the victim of a 
baffled ambition and an austere theology. His 
grand effort to reconcile geology with Genesis had 
failed, and the consciousness of that failure was 
the cause of the eclipse in which reason and life 
were extinguished. So the terrible tragedy of the 
24th December, 1&56, is interpreted. To such as 
possess any true conception of his character, the 
interpretation must be eminently unsatisfactory. 
That the precise mode in which science and reve- 
lation might be harmonized, presented no diffi- 
culties to Hugh Miller, we do not affirm. But, 
while quite aware the theory on which he lavished 
the riches of his imagination was open to question 
— had, indeed, been already questioned — the hopes 
inspired by the book of God never wavered. 
While exploring the abysmal depths of his favor- 
ite study, heaven's own light still shed its supernal 
splendors over his spirit, and in quite another than 
a despondent mood did he contemplate the ter- 
mination of his labors upon " The Testimony of 
the Rocks." The doubt with which the discords 
of nature inspire some minds did not perplex his. 
Through all the mists of scientific speculation, the 
eternal pole-star still remained for him an authen- 
tic luminary. No scrap of writing, no word 
breathed even in the ear of friendship, warrants 
the conclusion to which grave and able editors 
have not scrupled to rush. We have said that 
the seeds of the malady which prostrated Hugh 



STORY OF HUGH MILLER'S EARLY DAYS. 275 

Miller were sown in the quarry of Cromarty ; per- 
haps it had been more correct to have said, that 
there they received their first marked develop- 
ment. If the matter was completely investigated, 
we suspect that a constitutional tendency to cere- 
bral disease would be found to have existed. For 
some six or seven years he had been complaining 
that he no longer worked as he was wont to do. 
With double toil, but half the results of earlier, 
better days, could now be produced. The jaded 
spirit was spurred to its tasks under the pressure 
of motives whose force the noblest minds alone 
can feel. Remonstrances of affection and predic- 
tions of physicians were alike unheeded. Nothing 
was feared until, suddenly, the dread of a calamity 
no longer to be concealed precipitated the very 
catastrophe from which he recoiled. A clearer 
case of cerebral disorder does not exist. That, 
with the warnings received, he should have con- 
tinued unawakened to the perils of his position, only 
shows how sometimes the best of men, absorbed in 
special pursuits, may neglect what is of unspeak- 
able importance to remember. In his eagerness 
to read the wondrous story of an earlier world, 
Hugh Miller forgot he was himself fearfully and 
wonderfully made. Over all men the natural and 
organic laws assert paramount authority. A man 
so constitued as Hugh Miller was ever in imminent 
and peculiar peril from their transgression ; yet 
the peril was put far from him, and every monition 
of its approach, even while confessed, was un- 



276 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

heeded. He could warn brother editors of the 
dangers of overwork, yet by a singular fatality he 
himself continued to burn the midnight oil. Thus 
it came to pass, that he who had done for the 
geology what Burns had done for the songs of 
Scotland, perished in the meridian of his powers. 



LINNAEUS, THE NATURALIST. 

Like many other men of genius, Linnaeus was 
of humble origin. He could not boast a noble 
parentage ; he did not in any degree owe his fame 
to the rank and wealth of his connections. His 
ancestors were obscure peasants -; his father was 
an humble Christian pastor in the village of 
Rashult, in the province of Smaland, in Sweden, 
where, on the 23d of May, 1707, the celebrated 
naturalist was born. The original family name 
was Nils ; but the father of Linnaeus, being the 
first member of a learned profession known to be- 
long to his line, had, in accordance with a custom 
prevalent in Sweden, changed his family name 
with his profession. That he now adopted was 
borrowed from a large Linden-tree which grew in 
the vicinity of his native place. Charles was des- 
tined for the church, but he early showed that 
passion for flowers — that ardent thirst for the 
beauties of nature, which shaped his subsequent 
career. A patch of the garden was assigned to 



278 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

him, in dressing which, Charles spent many of the 
sunny hours of his boyhood. Cultivating the 
little nook in his father's garden, the genius and 
tastes of the boy were developed ; and we fancy 
him bending with fond delight over one favorite 
flower bursting into bloom, or with intense 
anxiety gazing on another about to droop and die. 
When seven years of age he was sent to schooL 
His first teacher was no ornament to his profes- 
sion. At this school Charles acquired but little. 
At his second — the grammar-school at Wexio, a 
town adjoining his native village — he was by no 
means noted for his diligence and proficiency. 
The fields were his study — flowers, fruits, and in- 
sects, the objects of his first love. Hence, instead 
of attending to the tasks prescribed to him, he 
spent his time in rambling over the country ; and 
though his teacher discovered in him some traits 
of genius, he was regarded by his schoolfellows as 
a truant. 

At the age of seventeen, he entered the upper 
college at Wexio, where his deficiencies as a clas- 
sic were quickly detected, and threatened with 
severe and summary punishment. The same con- 
stitutional tendency still held sway; the books 
were neglected, the fields were frequented. Com- 
plaints were made to his father, who, convinced 
that his son would never prosper as a divine, 
resolved to apprentice him to a shoemaker. 

Through the timely interference of a medicai 
professor in the College of Wexio, who had saga- 



LINNAEUS, THE NATURALIST. 279 

city enough to detect the buddings of genius in 
the mind of Charles Linnaeus, this purpose was 
fortunately abandoned. This man, whose name 
was Dr. John Rothmann, offered to take him 
under his charge for a year, and to supply all his 
necessary wants. As natural history was not 
likely to prove a very paying study, it was resolved 
also that Charles should qualify himself for the 
practice of medicine. Under the roof of this 
medical professor, he had ample means of enlarg 
ing his information; and that, too, upon the par- 
ticular department of science to which he was 
devoted. Here he remained till he was about 
twenty, when he entered the university of Lund. 
On quitting his first college, the rector gave him a 
testimonial in these most appropriate terms : — 
" Students may be compared to the trees of a 
nursery. Often among the young plants are found 
some which, notwithstanding the care that has 
been bestowed, resemble wild shoots ; but, if 
transplanted at a later period, they change their 
nature, and sometimes bear delicious fruit. With 
this hope I send this young man to the university^ 
where another climate may prove favorable to his 
progress." At this new seminary, under the kind 
care of the professor of medicine and botany, 
Linna3us made great improvement, enjoying as he 
did numerous facilities for cultivating his favorite 
tastes. He afterwards entered the University of 
Upsal, where he had to encounter many of those 
privations with which the student has so often to 



280 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

struggle. He was, in fact, chiefly dependent for 
food and clothing on the charity of his college 
companions. 

At this time an event happened, most favorable 
to his views and pursuits. The bleak and barren 
regions of Lapland had been less explored than 
any of the Swedish provinces. A society was 
instituted at Upsal, chiefly with the view of making 
inquiry regarding the natural productions of that 
kingdom. By this association he was chosen to 
make this inquiry. He has left us an account of 
the manner in which he was equipped when he set 
out on his expedition. "My clothes," says he, 
" consisted of a light coat of West Gothland lin- 
sey-woolsey cloth, without folds, lined with red 
shalloon, having small cuffs and collar of shag ; 
leather breeches ; a round wig ; a green leather 
cap ; and a pair of half-boots. I carried a small 
leather bag, half an ell in length but somewhat 
less in breadth, furnished on one side w r ith hooks 
and eyes, so that it could be opened and shut at 
pleasure. This bag contained one shirt ; two pair 
of false sleeves; two half-shirts; an inkstand, 
pen-case, microscope, and spying-glass ; a gauze 
cap, to protect me occasionally from the gnats ; a 
comb; my journal, and a parcel of paper stitched 
together for drying plants, both in folio ; my manu- 
script Ornithology, Flora Uplandica, and Charac- 
teres Generici. I wore a hanger at my side, and 
carried a small fowling-piece, as well as an octan- 
gular stick for the purpose of measuring. My 



LINN^USj THE NATURALIST. 281 

pocket-book contained a pass-port from the Gov- 
ernor of Upsal, and a recommendation from the 
Academy." 

Thus, somewhat grotesquely accoutred, with a 
few of the necessaries, but none of the luxuries, for 
such an expedition, did Linnaeus start for the cold 
regions of Lapland. After great privations and 
untiring industry, his mission proved eminently 
successful. 

Returning to Upsal, the members of the Royal 
Academy of Sciences evinced their sense of the 
worth of his services by choosing him as one of its 
members; and in 1775 he commenced a course of 
lectures on botany, chemistry, and mineralogy. As 
he had not yet taken his degree, his doing this was 
contrary to the statutes of the university: he was 
accordingly dragged before its senate, and for- 
bidden to continue his lectures. His prospects in 
connection with the University of Upsal being for 
the time blasted, Linnaeus, along with some of his 
pupils, visited the province of Dalecarlia, with the 
view of making fresh discoveries in mineralogy 
and botany. While resident in Fahlun, the capi- 
tal of the province, he became acquainted with one 
of its most eminent physicians, whose name was 
Moraeus, and who, in addition to his professional 
distinction was reputed as one of the wealthiest 
individuals in the district. The physician had two 
daughters, with the oldest of whom LinnaBiis fell 
violently in love. The lady did not object, but, 
on the contrary, thought she could never give her 



282 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

hand to one worthier of it. The old man, how- 
ever, was more difficult to please. When the 
future son-in-law mustered courage to moot the 
question to Dr. Morseus, he was given to under- 
stand that, though there were no objections on the 
score of character, his present circumstances and 
future prospects were scarcely all that could be 
wished. His answer to Linnaeus was to this effect : 
that should he obtain his diploma, and in the 
course of three years thereafter succeed in estab- 
lishing for himself a respectable practice, he should 
have the hand of his favorite Sarah. The terms 
were by no means unreasonable ; but as Swedish 
students at this time required to take their degree 
at some foreign university, this involved an ex- 
pense too heavy for our botanist. Miss Morseus, 
however, had contrived to save a considerable sum 
off the pocket-money allowed her by her father, 
which was placed at her lover's disposal. This, in 
addition to his own earnings, enabled him to ac- 
complish the desired object. After visiting his 
friends and the grave of his mother, who had died 
some months previous, preparing his academical 
dissertations, and arranging his papers, he set out 
from Fahlun in the month of April, 1735, and 
obtained his degree at Harderwycke. He subse- 
quently visited Leyden, where he published several 
of his most valuable treatises, and became ac- 
quainted with Dr. Boerhaave, and many other ce- 
lebrated persons. These treatises were the result 
of much toil and patient research — ','.., industry at 



LINSLEUS, THE NATURALIST. 283 

tLis period almost surpassing belief. When he 
had visited England and some other countries on 
the Continent, he returned to Sweden; and, hav- 
ing gained for himself a respectable practice — we 
should say rather, having risen to the top of his 
profession — he led Sarah Elizabeth, the eldest 
daughter of Morseus, to the altar of wedlock, with 
the consent of all parties. Though his talents and 
professional zeal would almost have secured his 
success anywhere, his rapid advancement, his 
several appointments to be botanist to the King 
of Sweden and physician to the Admiralty, w T ere 
in some measure due to his having completely 
cured Queen Eleonora of a cough, which had for 
some time troubled her Majesty. 

He was subsequently appointed to one of the 
medical chairs in the University of Upsal, and w r as 
afterwards made professor of botany — a situation 
most congenial to his taste, and for which we need 
not say, he w r as admirably qualified. Thus was 
awarded to him an honor, which, we may believe, 
of all others he most coveted — an honor, however, 
no more than the just reward of the zeal he had 
displayed in the prosecution of his studies. 

Linnaeus had his own share of bodily ailments. 
He suffered much, especially towards the close of 
his career, from repeated attacks of rheumatism 
and gout. He may be said to have fallen, as 
heroes of every name rejoice to fall, at his post; 
for, after an attack of apoplexy, with which he was 
seized when delivering one of his lectures in the 



284 MEN WHO HATE KISKN". 

Botanical Garden, he never recovered his strength. 
The period of second childhood came. The ac- 
complished Linna3us ceased to recognize his own 
works, and, it is said, even forgot his name. He 
died on the 10th of January, IV 78, having ex- 
ceeded by about one year, the threescore and ten. 
The following is his own account of his person.;! 
appearance : " The head of Linnaeus had a re- 
markable prominence behind, and was transversely 
depressed at the lambdoid suture. His hair was 
white in infancy, afterwards brown, in old age, 
grayish. His eyes were hazel, lively, and pene- 
trating; their power of vision exquisite. His fore- 
head was furrowed in old age. He had an oblit- 
erated wart on the right cheek, and another on 
the corresponding side of the nose. His teeth 
were unsound, and, at an early age, decayed from 
hereditary toothache." 

The department of science to which Linnaeus de- 
voted himself has a charm for almost every mind. 
While insects are humming around us, and flowers 
sending their fragrance across our path, his name 
is not likely to be forgotten. He was a prince 
among naturalists, as Newton and Kepler were 
among astronomers. 



SMEATON, THE ENGINEER. 

The simple means which men of genius find to 
bring the wonderful faculties with which they are 
endowed into action, is indeed a fit subject for ad- 
miration. He who has music in himself imparts it 
to some rude instrument of his own construction ; 
a burned stick has been known to be the first im- 
plement with which a gifted artist has practiced 
his divine art ; and, as in the case of Giotti, as he 
watched his flocks, the faithless sand has supplied 
the first tablet to which his sketches have been 
transmitted. Handel, in his childhood, was pro- 
hibited from hearing a note of music, and it was 
by stolen snatches that this sublime genius found 
vent for the inspiration which was to charm the 
world. Everything was done to repress the pas- 
sionate love of his art, which Michael Angelo 
Buonarotti evinced from his earliest days. The 
father of Sir Joshua Reynolds was seriously dis- 
pleased with him when he discovered the draw- 
ings which he had made on his exercise-book. 



286 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN. 

The reproof which he gave the boy remained in 
black and white on the copy-book, long after Sir 
Joshua had attained the highest eminence — 
" Done by Joshua out of pure idleness." Watt 
was very sharply rebuked by his aunt, one even- 
ing at the tea-table, for his " listless idleness," as 
she observed him taking off the lid of the kettle, 
and putting it on again — now holding a cup, and 
then a silver spoon over the steam, as it issued 
from the spout, and reckoning the drops of water 
into which it was condensed. Little did the good 
lady think, when she chided the " troublesome brat," 
that he was taking his first hints for the applica- 
tion of the mighty power which was to produce 
such momentous changes in the world, and by 
which his name was to be immortalized. 

The genius of John Smeaton, the great engineer 
appeared from his earliest infancy, and was not 
at all in accordance with his father's plans for 
his advancement. When a child in petticoats, he 
might be seen dividing circles and squares. He 
rejected all the toys in which children delight, se- 
lecting for his playthings the tools with which he 
fashioned models of machines. But his greatest 
enjoyment was to watch men at work, and ask 
them questions. When about six years old, he 
was one day missed, and, on being searched for, 
was at last found, to the terror of his father and 
mother, mounted on the roof of a barn, fixing up 
a windmill of his own construction. It was at 
about the same period that he watched with great 



SMEATOtf, THE ENGINEER. 287 

interest the progress of some men who were fixing 
a pump in the neighborhood. Having procured 
from them a piece of bored pipe, he determined he 
would have a pump of his own. He succeeded in 
making one which could raise water. There were 
heavy complaints made against " Master John" 
for destroying the fish in the ponds with his mo 
dels of machines for raising water from one to the 
other. His daughter, in alluding to his infant 
days, speaks of his career having been one of in- 
cessant labor, from six years old to sixty. At 
school he had to give his attention, during the 
day, to his exercises ; but at night, while others 
slept, he resumed his favorite pursuit. When 
about fourteen, he had made for himself an engine 
to turn rose-work ; and bestowed boxes of ivory 
and wood, turned by himself, on his acquaintances. 
A friend of his, who was destined for a mechanical 
employment, was perfectly astonished, when he 
went on a visit to him, to see all that he had ac- 
complished. He forged his iron and steel, and 
melted his metal himself. He had made tools of 
every kind for working in wood, ivory, and metals. 
He had made a lathe, by which he had cut a per- 
petual screw in brass — a thing little known at that 
time. He had manufactured an extensive set of 
tools, with which he worked in most of the me- 
chanical trades — genius and industry more than 
supplying the place of the instruction of which he 
had never had advantage. 

His father was an attorney, and intended him 



288 MEET WHO HAYE EISElf. 

for the bar. He went up to London to attend 
the courts, but his heart lay in those pursuits by 
which he became so distinguished. Longing to 
devote himself exclusively to them, he wrote 
strongly to his father on the subject, who wisely 
acceded to his wishes, and allowed him to turn 
to that profession for which nature herself seemed 
to have intended him — a profession embracing all 
that is most useful in science, and calling into ac- 
tion some of the noblest attributes of man — energy 
and judgment, forethought and patience. The 
wonderful ingenuity of invention which he ap- 
plied to machinery of various kinds, and the im- 
provements which he introduced in the construc- 
tion and working of mills, were of incalculable 
benefit. His industry was equal to his ability 
Ever ardent in desire for improvement, he went to 
Holland and the Lower Countries, for the purpose 
of inspecting the works of art, and traveled on 
foot. 

An opportunity was soon to occur to bring his 
great abilities into notice. The Eddystone Light- 
house, which had been swept away by the memor- 
able storm of the 26th of November, 1703, had 
been rebuilt, but was again destroyed by a fatal 
catastrophe. It happened on the 2d of December* 
1755, that some fishermen went to prepare their 
nets at a very early hour in the morning. They 
were much startled on perceiving volumes of 
flame issuing from the Eddystone Light-house. 
They instantly gave the alarm, and a neighbor- 



SMEATON, THE ENGINEER. 289 

ing gentleman sent out a boat and men to re- 
lieve the sufferers, if they were still in life. They 
did not reach the light-house till about ten o'clock. 
The fire had now been racing for about eight hours. 
It was first discovered by the light-keeper upon 
watch, who went into the lantern at about two 
o'clock, to snuff the candles. He found the place 
filled with smoke, and, on opening the door of the 
lantern into the balcony, flames issued from the 
cupola. It was some time before his companions 
heard him call for assistance, as they had been all 
asleep. By the time they reached him, all the 
water left in the buckets at hand was expended. 
He urged his companions to fill them again from 
the sea; but the difficulty of getting it from such 
a height, and their confusion and terror, rendered 
them quite powerless. The poor light-keeper — 
now in his ninety-fourth year — continued to make 
the most wonderful exertions ; but, completely 
exhausted by the unavailing labor, and the severe 
injuries which he had received from the melting 
lead, he was obliged to desist. The three men 
who were with him, terrified by his miserable situ 
ation, and the extreme agonies he was suffering 
Were quite incapacitated. As the fire approached 
them more nearly, they rushed into one of the 
lower rooms, to delay the horrible doom which 
threatened them, even for a few moments. When 
the boatmen reached them, they found the poor 
sufferers crouching together in a kind of cave, or 

rather hole on the east side of the rock, just under 
19 



290 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

the iron ladder. They had contrived to reach 
this cleft, into which they crept to escape the fall- 
ing timbers and red-hot bolts. It was with the 
greatest difficulty they were got off. They had 
no sooner reached the shore, than one of the poor 
men, no doubt crazed by the terrors whicli he had 
undergone, ran away, and was never heard of 
again. The poor old man languished in great tor- 
ture for about ten days, when death relieved him 
from his sufferings. Soon after this dreadful dis- 
aster, it was resolved that the light-house should 
be rebuilt ; but some difficulty arose as to finding 
a competent person to undertake such a stupen- 
dous work, when Mr. Smeaton was strongly 
recommended by Lord Macclesfield, president of 
the Royal Society, under whose notice he had been 
brought by the communications which he had 
forwarded, from time to time, for the last seven 
years, descriptive of improvements and inventions 
of his own, remarkable for great ingenuity, and 
showing ability of a very high order. Such an 
impression had he made on the society, that he 
was unanimously elected one of its members. 
Wilson, the painter, was deputed to announce to 
Smeaton that he had been appointed to superin- 
tend the great work. So unthought of was such 
an offer, that Smeaton was at a loss to understand 
Wilson's letter ; but, concluding that a permission 
to send proposals for undertaking the work was 
couched under ambiguous terms, he wrote such 
an answer as showed his mistake. Another letter 



SMEATON, THE ENGINEER. 291 

arrived from Wilson. It was opened. There was 
no possibility of misunderstanding its meaning. 
"Thou art the man," was all that it said. 

Every engagement was relinquished, and Mr. 
Smeaton entered, with all the energy of a great 
spirit, into the undertaking, and on those wild 
rocks succeeded in erecting a building as remark- 
able for strength and durability as it is for pic- 
turesque effect — a building which is the proudest 
monument with which a name can be associated. 
The wild appearance of the rocks, the rushing 
eddies, and the foaming waves, make the situation 
of the light-house one of the most striking that can 
be conceived. In three years the work was com- 
plete. Of that time, it has been calculated that 
there were but 431 days when it was possible to 
stand on the rock, and so small a portion of these 
was available, that the building in reality occu- 
pied but six weeks. The whole was completed 
without the slightest accident to any person ; and 
so well and systematically arranged was the whole 
conduct of the work, that neither confusion nor 
delay retarded its progress for an hour. Nothing 
can show the dreariness of the situation where 
this building stands, more than an account of the 
life which the four men lead who are appointed to 
take care of it. They take the charge by two, 
and are relieved by the others at the end of six 
weeks, if winds and waves permit ; but it often 
happens, particularly in tempestuous weather, that 
no boat can touch there for many months. Salt 



292 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

provisions are laid up as for a ship prepared for a 
long voyage. When winds prevail, "the dash- 
ing of the waves creates such a briny atmosphere, 
that a man exposed to it could not draw his breath. 
During such visitations, the two lonely beings 
keep closely shut up in their solitary abode, living 
in darkness, and listening to no sound but the 
awful howling of the storm, and the wild rushing 
waves, as they lash against the building." Our 
respect and admiration for the consummate skill 
and ability to which the success of so great an 
undertaking was owing, and for the fine qualities 
of mind which were essential for the endurance 
of the labor and fatigue with which it was accom- 
plished, have given a deep interest to whatever 
we have chanced to meet with relative to Mr. 
Smeaton. He was just thirty-five years of age 
when the light-house was finished. By his promp- 
titude and skillful measures, London Bridge was 
saved from falling, when its destruction appeared 
inevitable. He made the river Calder navigable 
— a work that could only have been achieved by 
the greatest judgment and skill, as its floods were 
frightfully impetuous. He planned and superin- 
tended the execution of the great canal in Scot- 
land, for conveying the trade of the country either 
to the Atlantic or German Ocean. He applied 
his own improvements and inventions to the con- 
structing of mills, and a great variety of works. 
Moderate in his desires and temperate in his 
habits, he had no wish to amass great wealth, and 



SMEATON, THE ENGINEER. 293 

declined splendid offers from the Empress of Rus- 
sia, made through the Princess Dashkoff. She 
earnestly desired his superintendence over the 
great national works which she had in contempla- 
tion, and would have secured it at any cost. He 
felt that his own country had the first claim on 
him, and he declined the offer. " You are a great 
man, sir," said the Princess, "and I honor you. 
I doubt whether you have your equal in abilities, 
but in character you stand certainly single. The 
English minister Sir Robert Walpole, was mis- 
taken, and my sovereign has the misfortune to find 
a man who has not his price." That " the abili- 
ties of the individual were a debt due to the com- 
mon stock of public happiness or accommodation," 
was a maxim of his, to which, on all occasions, he 
acted up. 

For many years of Mr. Smeaton's life, he was 
a constant attendant on parliament ; and whatever 
bill he supported was in almost every instance 
carried. It was his invariable rule, when re- 
quested to forward any measure, to make himself 
thoroughly acquainted with its merits before he 
would engage in it. His complete knowledge of 
the subject, and the remarkable clearness with 
which he expressed himself, carried great weight, 
and secured the attention and confidence of all 
who heard him. Lord Mansfield and others 
complimented him from the bench, for the new 
light which he threw on difficult subjects. His 
language in speaking and writing, was so strong 



294: MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

and perspicuous, that his meaning could never bb 
mistaken, and all that was necessary for those who 
worked under him was to hear what he said, and 
do neither more nor less than he desired. Con- 
tact with the world, which hi too many instances 
blunts the feelings and takes from native simpli- 
city of character, has generally been found to have 
a contrary effect on those engaged in pursuits 
which promote the happiness and comfort of 
others ; for they are almost invariably conspicuous 
for simplicity of disposition and tenderness of 
heart. That it was so with John Smeaton, we 
have ample testimony, and none more touching 
than that borne by his daughter, who says that he 
was " devoted to his family with an affection so 
lively, a manner at once so cheerful and serene, 
that it is impossible to say whether the charms 
of conversation, the simplicity of instructions, or 
the gentleness with which they were conveyed, 
most endeared his home — a home in which from 
infancy we cannot recollect to have seen a trace 
of dissatisfaction, or a word of asperity to any 
one." The simple integrity of his deportment to 
those of higher rank was sure to win their esteem, 
and his kindness and consideration made him an 
object of veneration to his inferiors. He was 
highly regarded and looked up to by the members 
of his own profession. The modesty which almost 
always accompanies real greatness of mind must 
have served to endear him to them. So little, 
indeed, was he elated by his acknowledged superi- 



SMEATON, TTTE ENGINEER. 295 

ority, that even in his own family it was a matter 
of some difficulty to lead him " to speak of himself, 
his pursuits, or success." Many of his evenings 
were passed, with his professional friends, in the 
society of Civil Engineers, which he had been one 
of the first to form. 

Early in life, Mr. Smeaton formed an intimacy 
with the Duke and Duchess of Queensberry 
which was curiously brought about. It happened 
one evening, when he was walking in Ranelagh 
with Mrs. Smeaton, that he observed an elderly 
lady (who was the eccentric Duchess of Queens- 
berry) looking at him with evident interest. After 
some time, Mr. and Mrs. Smeaton stopped, and 
the lady advanced, and addressed Mr. Smeaton : 
"Sir," said she, " I don't know who you are, or 
what you are ; but you resemble my poor dear 
Gay so strongly that we must be acquainted. 
You must come home and sup with us ; and if the 
minds of the two men accord, j*s do their coun- 
tenances, you will find two cheerful old folks, who 
can love you well ; and I think — or you are a 
hypocrite — you well deserve it." An invitation 
so oddly given was as frankly accepted, and for 
•he remainder of his life the warmest friend- 
hip subsisted between them, and in their society 
ilr. Smeaton found his most agreeable relaxa 
ion. 

It was the intention of Mr. Smeaton, whenever 
he could find time, to publish an account of his 
various inventions and the works in which he 



296 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN". 

had been engaged. In the year 1785, his de- 
clining health suggested that the time was come 
when he might relinquish more active occupa- 
tion, and that it was a fitting period for putting 
his intention into execution, and he felt that 
he could not set about anything which could' 
be more useful. But he could not resist the 
solicitations of his friends, who urged him to 
take the superintendence of various works. He 
was so warmly pressed to accept the place of 
engineer to the harbor of Ramsgate by his friend 
Mr. Aubert, who was chairman, that he was unable 
to refuse. As he was not able to devote himself 
exclusively to preparation for his publications, as 
he had wished, some valuable acquisitions to the 
libraries of the scientific may have been lost ; but 
after his death several works, in addition to those 
which had already appeared, were published. 
Among these eminently useful productions, is 
" Smeaton's Reports," which ranks high as a 
standard work, and is indeed a text-book which 
none of the profession would be without. 

The sad misfortune which Mr. Smeaton had 
long anticipated, occurred as he was walking in 
his garden, on the 16th of September, 1792 — he 
was struck with palsy. The dread of outliving 
his faculties was far more distressing to him than 
the thought of any bodily suffering ; but he was 
happily spared the trial, and nothing could exceed 
his pious thankfulness in finding his intellect unin- 
jured. The tender consideration which he showed 



SMEATOK, THE EKGESTEER. 297 

for the feelings of his family on this afflicting oc- 
casion served to endear him still more. He used 
every means to soften the blow to them, by setting 
them an example of entire resignation. Still it was 
his wish to be released ; but he lingered on for 
six weeks. During that interval, as we are told 
by his daughter, " all his faculties and affections 
were as clear and animated as ever, and he exer- 
cised his ingenuity hi devising means by which he 
could assist himself without troubling those about 
him. He occupied himself with calculations with 
as much interest as before the stroke. He desired 
to see all the occupations and amusements of the 
family go on as usual. He took his accustomed 
interest in the music and drawing, and joined in 
conversation with all his wonted cheerfulness. 
He sometimes fancied and lamented — what no 
one else could perceive — his own slowness ; and 
then he would add — with a gentle smile, i It could 
not be otherwise — the shadow must lengthen as 
the sun goes down.' A few evenings before he 
died, his family were gathered about him, and one 
of his children asked him about some phenomena 
of the moon. He gave the required explanation 
with all the clearness and precision for which he 
was so remarkable. While he yet spoke, the 
moon shone brightly into the chamber. He 
gazed on it in rapt earnestness for a few moments ; 
then, turning to those about him, he said : c How 
often have I looked up to it with inquiring won- 
der to that period when I shall have the vast and 
13* 



298 



MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 



privileged view of a hereafter, and all will be com- 
prehension and pleasure !' " On the 28th of Octo- 
ber, 1792, in his 68th year, John Smeaton was 
removed from the world, for which he had done 
so much. 



RITTENHOTTSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 

David Rittenhouse was born near German- 
town, Pennsylvania, April 8th, 1732. The family 
originally came from Guelderland, a province in 
Holland. They settled in the State of New York, 
while it was a Dutch colony, and were the first 
who engaged in the manufacture of paper in this 
country. The father of David Rittenhouse 
abandoned the occupation of a paper-maker, when 
about twenty-nine years of age, and commenced 
the business of a farmer, on a piece of land which 
he had purchased in the township of Norriton, 
about twenty miles from the city of Philadelphia. 
It seems that he very early designed his son for 
this useful and respectable employment. Accord- 
ingly, as soon as the boy arrived at a sufficient 
age to assist in conducting the affairs of the farm, 
he was occupied as a husbandman. This kind 
of occupation appears to have commenced at an 
early period of his life. About the fourteenth 
year of his age, he was employed in ploughing in 



300 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

his father's fields. His brother Benjamin relates, 
that while David was thus engaged at the plough, 
he (the informant), then a young boy, was fre- 
quently sent to call him to his meals; at which 
times he repeatedly observed, that not only the 
fences at the head of many of the furrows, but 
even his plough and its handles, were covered 
over with chalked numerical figures. Astronomy 
was a favorite pursuit. He also applied himself 
industriously to the study of optics, the mechanical 
powers, &c, without the advantage of the least 
instruction. About the seventeenth year of his 
age, he made a wooden clock of very ingenious 
workmanship; and soon after, he constructed one 
of the same materials that compose the common 
four-and-twenty hour clock, and upon the same 
principles. He had, much earlier in life, exhibited 
proofs of his mechanical genius, by making, when 
only seven or eight years old, a complete water- 
mill in miniature. 

With many valuable traits of character, old 
Mr. Rittenhouse had no claims to what is termed 
genius. Hence he did not properly appreciate 
the early specimens of talent which appeared in 
his son David. He was, for some time, opposed 
to the young man's earnest desire to renounce 
agricultural employments, for the purpose of 
devoting himself altogether to philosophical pur- 
suits, in connection with some such mechanical 
profession as might best comport with useful 
objects of natural philosophy, and be most likelp, 



RITTENHOtTSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 301 

at the same time, to afford him the means of a 
comfortable subsistence. At length, however, the 
father yielded his own inclinations, in order to 
gratify what was manifestly the irresistible im- 
pulse of his son's genius. He supplied him with 
money to purchase, in Philadelphia, such tools as 
were more immediately necessary for commencing 
the clock-making business, which the son then 
adopted as his profession. About the same time, 
young Mr. Rittenhouse erected, on the side of a 
public road, and on his father's land, in the town- 
ship of Norriton, a small but commodious work- 
shop ; and after having made many implements 
of the trade with his own hands, to supply the 
deficiency in his purchased stock, he set out in 
good earnest, as a clock and mathematical instru- 
ment maker. From the age of eighteen or nineteen 
to twenty-five, Mr. Rittenhouse applied himself 
unremittingly, both to his trade and his studies. 
Employed throughout the day in his attention to 
the former, he devoted much of his nights to the 
latter. Indeed, he deprived himself of the neces- 
sary hours of rest ; for it was his almost invariable 
practice to sit up at his books until midnight, 
sometimes much later. 

When Mr. Rittenhouse's father established his 
residence at Norriton, and during the minority of 
the son, there were no schools in the vicinity at 
which anything more was taught, than reading 
and writing in the English language, and the 
simplest rules of arithmetic. Young Ritten- 



302 MEN WHO HAVE BISEN. 

house's school education was, therefore, necessarily 
bounded by very narrow limits. He was in 
truth taught nothing beyond those very circum- 
scribed studies, which have been named, prior to 
his nineteenth year. The zeal with which he pur- 
sued his studies will be seen from the following ex- 
tract of a letter, written in September, 1756, being 
then little more than twenty-four years of age. 
" I have not health for a soldier " (the country 
was then engaged in war), " and as I have no 
expectation of serving my country in that way, I 
am spending my time in the old trifling manner, 
and am so taken with optics, that I do not know 
whether if the enemy should invade this part of 
the country, as Archimedes was slain while mak- 
ing geometrical figures on the sand, so I should 
die making a telescope." 

An incident now occurred which served to make 
known more extensively, the extraordinary genius 
of Rittenhouse. His mother had two brothers, 
David and Lewis Williams (or William), both oi 
whom died in their minority. David, the elder 
of these, pursued the trade of a carpenter, or 
joiner. Though, like his nephew and namesake, 
he was almost wholly an uneducated youth, he 
also, like him, early discovered an unusual genius 
and strength of mind. After the death of this 
young man, on opening a chest containing the 
implements of his trade, which was deposited at 
Mr. M. Rittenhouse's (in whose family it is pre- 
sumed he dwelt), a few elementary books, treating 



RITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 303 

of arithmetic and geometry were found in it. 
With these, there were various calculations and 
other papers, in manuscript ; all the productions 
of David Williams himself, and such as indicated 
riot only an uncommon genius, but an active 
spirit of philosophical research. To this humble 
yet valuable coffer of his deceased uncle, Ritten- 
house had free access, while yet a very young 
boy. He often spoke of this acquisition as a 
treasure, inasmuch as the instruments belonging 
to his uncle afforded him the means of gratifying 
and exercising his mechanical genius, while the 
books and manuscripts early led his mind to 
those congenial pursuits in mathematical and 
astronomical science, which were ever the favor- 
ite objects of his studies. This circumstance, 
probably, occurred before his twelfth year. 
"It was during the residence of Rittenhouse 
with his father at Norriton," says his eulogist, 
Dr. Rush, " that he made himself master of 
Sir Isaac Newton's Principia, which he read 
in the English translation of Mr. Motte. It was 
here, likewise, that he became acquainted with the 
science of fluxions ; of which sublime invention, 
he believed himself for a while to be the author, 
nor did he know for some years afterwards, that 
a contest had been carried on between Sir Isaac 
Newton and Leibnitz, for the honor of that great 
and useful discovery." Mr. Rittenhouse's early 
zeal in his practical researches into astronomy, 
prompted him to desire the greatest possible 



304 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

accuracy in the construction of time-pieces adapted 
to astronomical purposes ; and uniting, as he did, 
operative skill with a thorough knowledge of the 
principles upon which their construction depends, 
he was enabled, by his own mechanical ingenuity, 
to gain a near approach to the perfection to which 
the pendulum-chronometer may be brought. 

" There is nothing peculiar in the mechanism 
of this time-piece which requires to be mentioned, 
except the pendulum ; especially the apparatus for 
counteracting the effects of temperature. For 
this purpose, there is fastened on the pendulum- 
rod (which is of iron or steel) a glass tube about 
thirty-six inches long; bent in the middle into 
two parallel branches, at the distance of about an 
inch from each other; the bend being placed 
downwards, immediately above the bob of the 
pendulum. The tube is open at one end, and 
closed at the other ; the arm which is closed at 
the top is filled, within about two inches of the 
lower end or bend, with alcohol, and the rest of 
the tube, within about one half of an inch of the 
upper extremity, or open end, with mercury; a 
few inches of the tube, at this extremity, beirig 
about twice the width of the rest of the tube. 

" Now, when the heat of the air increases, it 
will expand the pendulum-rod, and would thus 
lower the centre of oscillation, and cause the 
clock to go slower ; but this effect is completely 
counteracted, by the expansion of the alcohol 
chiefly, and of the mercury in part ; which equally 



RITTENHOTJSEj THE MATHEMATICIAN. 305 

raises the centre of oscillation, and thus preserves 
an equable motion in all the variable temperatures 
of the atmosphere." 

The great accuracy and exqusite workmanship 
displayed in everything belonging to the profes- 
sion which Mr. Rittenhouse pursued, that came 
through his hands, soon became extensively 
known in that portion of the United States where 
he lived. This knowledge of his mechanical 
abilities, assisted by the reputation which he had 
already acquired as a mathematician and astrono- 
mer, in a short time procured him the friendship 
and patronage of some eminent scientific men. 
In mechanics he was entirely self-taught. He 
never received the least instruction from any 
person, in any mechanic art whatever. If he 
were to be considered merely as an excellent 
artist, in an occupation intimately connected with 
the science of mechanics, untutored as he was in 
any art or science, he would deservedly be deemed 
an extraordinary man. 

In the bosom of his father's family he long con- 
tinued to enjoy the tranquil scenes of rural life, 
amidst the society of an amiable and very intelli- 
gent family circle, and surrounded by many 
estimable neighbors, by whom he was both loved 
and respected. His chief occupation was that of 
he profession which he had chosen ; but the occa- 
ional intervals of leisure from his business, which 
his assistant workmen enabled him to obtain, he 
devoted to philosophical and abstract studies. 
20 



306 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

In February, 1766, Mr. Rittenhouse was mar- 
ried to Miss Eleanor Colston, the daughter of a 
respectable member of the Society of Friends 
who lived in the neighborhood. After her death 
he married Miss Hannah Jacobs. 

In 1767, among other things, he contrived 
and made a very ingenious thermometer, con- 
structed on the principle of the expansion and 
contraction of metals by heat and cold, respect- 
ively. This instrument had, under glass, a face 
upon which was a graduated semicircle ; the 
degrees of heat and cold corresponded with those 
of Fahrenheit's thermometer; and these were 
also correspondingly designated by an index 
moving on the centre of the arch. Its square, or 
rather parallelogramical form, its flatness and 
thinness, and its small size, together with its not 
being liable to the least sensible injury or irregu- 
larity, from any position in which it might be 
placed, rendered it a very convenient thermometer 
to be carried in the pocket. 

About this time Mr. Rittenhouse made a very 
ingenious orrery. Though no description, in 
words, can give an adequate idea, yet we sab- 
join a part of the philosopher's own account of 
it. "This machine is intended to have three 
faces, standing perpendicular to the horizon ; that 
n the front to be four feet square, made of sheet 
brass, curiously polished, silvered and painted, in 
proper places, and otherwise properly ornamented. 
From the centre arises an axis, to support a 



RITTENHOTJSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 307 

gilded brass ball, intended to represent the sun. 
Round this ball move others, made of brass or 
ivory, to represent the planets. They are to move 
in elliptical orbits, having the central ball in one 
focus ; and their motions to be sometimes swifter, 
and sometimes slower, as nearly according to the 
true law of an equable description of areas as 
possible, without too great a complication of wheel- 
work. The orbit of each planet is likewise to be 
properly inclined to those of the others ; and their 
aphelia and nodes justly placed; and their veloci- 
ties so accurately adjusted as not to differ sensibly 
from the tables of astronomy in some thousands of 
years. 

"For the greater beauty of the instrument, the 
balls representing the planets are to be of consid- 
erable bigness, but so contrived that they may be 
taken off at pleasure, and others, much smaller, 
and fitter for some purposes, put in their places. 

" When the machine is put in motion, by the 
turning of a winch, there are three indices which 
point out the vjur of the day, the day of the 
month, and the year answering to that situation of 
the heavenly bodies which is there represented ; 
and so continually, for a period of five thousand 
years, either forwards or backwards. 

" The two lesser faces are four feet in height, 
and two feet three inches in breadth. One of 
them will exhibit all the appearances of Jupiter 
and his satellites, their eclipses, transits, and in- 
clinations ; likewise all the appearances of Saturn, 



308 MEN WHO HAYE RISEN. 

with his ring and satellites. And the other will 
represent all the phenomena of the moon — particu- 
larly the exact time, quantity, and duration of her 
eclipses —and those of the sun occasioned by her 
interposition ; with a most curious contrivance for 
exhibiting the appearance of a solar eclipse at any 
particular place on the earth, likewise the true 
place of the moon in the signs, with her latitude 
and the place of her apogee in the nodes ; the sun's 
declination, equation of time, &c. It must be un- 
derstood that all these motions are to correspond 
exactly with the celestial motions; and not to differ 
several degrees from the truth in a few revolutions, 
as is common in orreries." 

Some general idea, perhaps, of this instrument 

may be derived from the preceding description ; 

, at least it will afford sufficient evidence of the 

extraordinary philosophical and mechanical powers 

of Rittenhouse. 

Among the most important service which he 
rendered for the world, was the observation of 
the transit of Venus over the sun's disc, which 
took place on the third of June, 1769. There 
had been but one of these transits of Venus over 
the sun during the course of about one hundred 
and thirty years preceding that of 1769 ; and, for 
upwards of seven centuries, antecendently to the 
commencement of that period, the same planet 
had passed over the sun's disc no more than thir 
teen times. The next transit of Venus will take 
place on the 8th of December, 1874, which but few, 



RITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 309 

if any persons then on the stage of lifq will have 
an opportunity of observing. From 1874, down 
to the 14th of June, A. D., 2984, inclusively — a 
period of upwards of eleven centuries — the same 
planet will pass over the sun's disc only eighteen 
times. 

The great use of the observation of the transit 
of Venus is to determine the sun's parallax.* 
Only two of these phenomena had been observed 
since the creation of the world, and the first had 
been seen by only two persons — Jeremiah Horrox 
and William Crabtree, two Englishmen. As the 
time approached when this extraordinary pheno- 
menon was to manifest itself, the public expectation 
and anxiety were greatly excited. The American 
Philosophical Society appointed thirteen gentle- 
men, to be distributed into three committees, for 
the purpose of making observations. Rev. Dr. 
Ewing had the principal direction of the observa- 
tory in the city of Philadelphia ; Mr. Owen Biddle 
had the charge of superintending the observations 
at Cape Henlopen, and Mr. Rittenhouse those at 
Norriton, near his own residence, on an elevated 
piece of ground, commanding a good range of 
horizontal view. It was completely furnished with 
the necessary instruments, owing very much 



* A parallax denotes a change of the apparent place of any heavenly 
body, caused by being seen from different points of view ; or it is the 
difference between the true and apparent distance of any heavenly body 
from the zenith. The fixed stars are so remote as to have no sensible 
parallax; and even the sun and all the primary planets, except Mars 
and Venus when nearest the earth, are at so great distances from the 
earth, that their parallax is too small to be observed. 



310 MEN WHO HAVE KISEN. 

to the liberality of some scientific gentlemen in 
England. 

" We are naturally led," says Dr. Rush, in his 
eulogium, " to take a view of our philosopher, with 
his associates, in their preparations to observe 
a phenomenon which had never been seen but 
twice before by any inhabitant of our earth, which 
would never be seen again by any person then 
living, and on which depended very important 
astronomical consequences. The night before the 
long-expected day was probably passed in a degree 
of solicitude which precluded sleep. How great 
must have been their joy, when they beheld the 
morning sun; and the 'whole horizon without a 
cloud;' for such is the description of the day, given 
by Mr. Rittenhouse in his report to Dr. Smith. 
In pensive silence and trembling anxiety, they 
waited for the predicted moment of observation 
it came — and brought with it all that had been 
wished for and expected by those who saw it. In 
our philosopher, in the instant of one of the con- 
tacts of the planet with the sun, there was an 
emotion of delight so exquisite and powerful, as to 
induce fainting; — such was the extent of that 
pleasure, which attends the discovery or first per- 
ception ol truth." 

The observations of' Mr. Rittenhouse were re- 
ceived with favor by the whole philosophical world. 
Mr. Ludlam, one of the vice-presidents of the 
Philosophical Society of London, and an eminent 
astronomer, thus writes : " No astronomers could 



RITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. ^11 

better deserve all possible encouragement ; whether 
we consider their care and diligence in making: 
their observations, their fidelity in relating wnat 
was done, or the clearness and accuracy of their 
reasoning on this curious and difficult subject. The 
more I read the transactions of your Society (the 
American Philosophical), the more I honor and 
esteem the members of it. There is not another 
Society in the world that can boast of a member 
such as Mr. Rittenhouse ; theorist enough to 
encounter the problems of determining, from a few 
observations, the orbit of a comet ; and also me- 
chanic enough to make, with his own hands, an 
equal-altitude instrument, a transit-telescope, and 
a time-piece. I wish I was near enough to see his 
mechanical apparatus. I find he is engaged in 
making a curious orrery." 

Dr. Maskelyne, Astronomer Royal at Green- 
wich, says : "The Pennsylvania Observations of 
the transit were excellent and complete, and do 
honor to the gentleman who made them, and those 
who promoted the undertaking." Dr. Wrangel, 
an eminent and learned Swedish clergyman, speak- 
ing of the Transactions of the American Philoso- 
phical Society, says : " Your accurate observations 
of the transit of Venus have given infinite satisfac 
to our Swedish astronomers." 

On the 9th of November following, Mr 
Rittenhouse, in connection with several others, 
observed a transit of Mercury over the sun's 
disc. 



312 



MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 



In the autumn of 1770, Mr. Rittenhouse removed 
With his family to the city of Philadelphia. 

A new phenomenon in the heavens soon after 
engaged his attention ; this was the comet which 
appeared in June and July, 1770. "Herewith I 
send you," says Mr. Rittenhouse, writing to Dr 
Smith, "the fruit of three or four days' labor, 
during which I have covered many sheets, and 
literally drained my ink-stand several times." In 
another letter he remarks, " I told you that some 
intricate calculation or other always takes up my 
idle hours (he seems to have considered all his 
hours 'idle' ones which were not taken up in 
some manual employment), that I cannot find 
time to write to my friends as often as I could 
wish ; a new object has lately engrossed my 
attention. The comet which appeared a few 
weeks since was so very extraordinary, that I 
could not forbear tracing it in all its wanderings, 
and endeavoring to reduce that motion to order 
and regularity which seemed void of any. This, 
I think, I have accomplished, so far as to be able 
to compute its visible place for any given time ; 
and I can assure you that the account from York, 
of its having been seen again near the place 
where it first appeared, is a mistake. Nor is Mr. 
Winthrop of Boston happier, in supposing that it 
yet crosses the meridian, every day, between 
twelve and one o'clock, that it has already passed 
its peripelion, and that it may, perhaps, again 
emerge from the southern horizon. This comet 



EITTENHOUSE, THE MATHEMATICIAN. 313 

is now to be looked for nowhere but a little to the 
north of, and very near to the ecliptic. It rises 
now a little before day-break ; and will continue to 
rise sooner and sooner every morning." 

In March, 1771, the Legislature of Pennsyl- 
vania bore the following honorable testimony to 
the worth of Mr. Rittenhouse : 

" The Members of Assembly having viewed the 
orrery constructed by Mr. David Rittenhouse, a 
native of this province, and being of opinion that 
it greatly exceeds all others hitherto constructed, 
in demonstrating the true situations of the celes- 
tial bodies, their magnitudes, motions, distances, 
periods, eclipses, and order, upon the principles of 
the Newtonian system : 

" Resolved, that the sum of three hundred 
pounds be given to Mr. Rittenhouse, as a testi- 
mony of the high sense which this House entertain 
of his mathematical genius and mechanical abili- 
ties, in constructing the said orrery." 

In January, 1771, Mr. Rittenhouse was elected 
one of the Secretaries of the American Philo- 
sophical Society. In 1789, the honorary degree 
of Doctor of Laws was conferred upon Mr. 
Rittenhouse by the college of New Jersey. In 
January, 1791, on the death of Dr. Franklin, Dr. 
Rittenhouse was, with great unanimity, elected 
President of the American Philosophical Society. 
In 1795, he was elected a member of the Royal 
Society of London. This high honor had been pre- 
viously conferred upon onlv three or four Americans. 
14 



314 MEN WHO HAVE RISEN. 

But he did not live long to enjoy his distin- 
guished honors. Soon after his entrance upon 
the sixty-fifth year of his age, in June, 1796, he 
died. 

The Rev. Dr. Ashbel Green, being pastor of 
the congregation in which Dr. Rittenhouse had 
often attended divine worship during the latter 
years of his life, pronounced an appropriate 
address at his interment. "This," says Dr. 
Green, " is emphatically the tomb of genius and 
science. Their child, their martyr is here depos. 
ited — and their friends will make his eulogy in 
tears. I stand not here to pronounce it ; the 
thought that engrosses my mind is this : how 
much more clear and impressive must be the 
views which the late spiritual inhabitant of that 
lifeless corpse now possesses of God — of his 
infinite existence, of his adorable attributes, and 
of that eternal blaze of glory which emanates 
from Him — than when she Avas blinded by her vail 
of flesh ! Accustomed as she was to penetrate far 
into the universe — far as corporal or mental vision 
here can reach — still what new and extensive 
scenes of wonder have opened on her eyes enlight- 
ened and invigorated by death ! The discoveries 
of Rittexhouse, since he died, have already been 
more, and greater, than while he lived. Yes, and 
could he address us from the spiritual world, his 
language would be — 

4 AH, a'l on earth is shadow, all beyond 
Is substance. — ' " 



315 

In a conversation with the Rev. Dr. Sproat, 
Dr. Rittenhouse, a short time before his death, 
declared, that " he could with truth say, that ever 
since he had examined Christianity and thought 
upon the subject, he was a firm believer in it ; and 
that he expected salvation only in the way of the 
Gospel." He had not attached himself to any 
particular church. The members of his family 
were mostly of the Society of Friends. In the 
last years of his life he read many books on 
natural and revealed religion. He was much 
pleased with the " Thoughts of Pascal." 

He was a very modest and unassummg man, 
and in this strikingly resembled Sir Isaac Newton, 
for whose character and works he had the highest 
veneration. His usefulness, though great, was 
considerably circumscribed by his want of an 
early education. In consequence of this, he felt 
an unbecoming diffidence in his own powers, and 
failed to commit his discoveries and thoughts to 
writing, which, in a published form, would, doubt- 
less, have eminently increased his usefulness, and 
the honor of the country which gave him birth. 



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